


Such An Ugly Mark But I Wear It So Well

by flyppa



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Slow Build, Trespasser DLC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2018-07-18 10:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7310542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyppa/pseuds/flyppa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year on from the failed Qunari invasion, discovering Solas's true identity and losing her arm, Ellana Lavellan is still slowly wandering along the road to recovery. After spending a few months with Vivienne in Orlais, she returned to live with Clan Lavellan, despite no longer being able to carry out her role within the clan as a hunter. After several months of being out of touch with her friends, Ellana has decided that perhaps it might be the right time to start getting back into contact with some of them and moving on with her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been so long since I even THOUGHT about writing a multi-chaptered fic to post that I'm actually really nervous about posting this. It's something that I've been working on in bits and pieces for a while now, but I think I actually have something of a plan together for it now. Anyway, I hope that people are willing to give it a chance, and I hope that they enjoy it if they do.

Living once again with Clan Lavellan was the kind of break that Ellana had needed since the attempted Qunari invasion, the return of Solas, and losing her arm. A year had passed since those events, and Clan Lavellan had welcomed her back with open arms. Skyhold had been the home to the Inquisition -- and there was also the fact that everywhere she looked, Ellana was reminded of Solas and the friends she had made who had all moved on with their lives. Dorian was far away in Tevinter, Vivienne had returned to Orlais to take up new duties as the First Enchanter, and Cassandra was residing in Val Royeaux as the new Divine. Kirkwall had a new Viscount in the form of Varric, and Josephine had returned to Antiva to become the head of the Montilyet family. Ellana was not entirely sure what had become of the others, but she was mostly certain that they were all well, otherwise she hoped that she would have been informed.

Currently, Clan Lavellan were camped outside of Kirkwall, further south than they would normally travel -- though had kept far away from Sundermount, where Clan Sabrae had lived and met such a disastrous end. The unusual travel pattern of Clan Lavellan was due to Varric being viscount, and Ellana wishing to pay him a visit -- her clan were all well and good, but Ellana wanted to stay in contact with her friends too. As viscount, Varric had ensured that Clan Lavellan were welcome to the area, and several merchants had already made their way out to the clan so that they could trade goods and rumours.

Due to her former position as Inquisitor, Ellana had earned the respect of many within Clan Lavellan. As nice as that was, Ellana couldn’t help but wish that she had something… well,  _ more _ . Before she had been sent to the conclave, she had been little more than a hunter and a scout but she had purpose back then. Losing her arm meant that Ellana was no longer able to hunt effectively -- she could no longer use a bow, and although she had been practicing, Ellana still found it difficult to lay traps and snares with the use of only one hand. As well as not being able to hunt, Ellana found it difficult to do any kind of practical activity -- she had attempted to work with the blacksmith for a short while, but found that she lacked that skill and in the end had decided to retire gracefully -- before she sacrificed too much of her pride.

Since returning to her clan, Ellana had spent most of her time working with the halla keeper, who was a wrinkled Dalish woman named Falura. Falura was one of the oldest members of the clan, and Ellana was certain that the halla keeper had always looked her age, even when Ellana had been a child growing up. Clan Lavellan had a relatively large herd of halla, used to pull their aravels across the land and also to provide them with milk. 

At that moment in time, Ellana was standing in a small paddock with a young halla buck whilst Falura attempted to place a harness on him. It was the first time that the buck would ever be harnessed, and it was important that he became used to the feel of it before he was required to pull an aravel with the rest of the herd. Pulling an aravel was the only time that the halla would ever be harnessed -- Ellana had never even seen Falura use a lead rope with any of them, as they would fall in line behind her and follow her every instruction if she was leading them anywhere.

“These buckles grow more and more fiddly everyday,” Falura said, crouching down beside the halla as she fitted the harness. “Keep him still, Ellana.”

Ellana was stood in front of the young buck, stroking his nose gently and occasionally murmured soothing words in her native language. Without reins, it was surprisingly easy to keep the halla still -- unlike with a horse. One of the things that Ellana missed the most about Skyhold were the stables. The Inquisition had acquired many priceless mounts whilst she had been there, and despite the presence of Master Dennet, Ellana had always tried her hardest to take care of her own mounts, and show the creatures the same respect that she had earned from them.

Falura finished fitting the harness, and stood up to take a step back from the halla. She nodded at Ellana to show that it was all okay, and Ellana gave the buck a light scratch under the chin before she also stepped back, giving the creature some space.

Ellana and Falura waited as the halla turned to look at the harness which now adorned his back. After a curious glance at Ellana and Falura, the buck then flicked his ears and trotted back out to the centre of the paddock to resume grazing on the wildflowers that he had been eating before being interrupted by his keeper.

“He doesn’t seem to be too bothered.” Ellana observed, watching as the buck lifted his head as he chewed on the flowers. The creature turned his head as though inspecting the harness, wondering what was so interesting about it to the two Dalish women.

“No, he doesn’t.” Falura replied, watching the halla decide that the harness was going to be no bother as he returned to his grazing. “His lineage is a gentle one.”

“Unlike the last one we harnessed.” Ellana muttered. There was still a bruise on her thigh from being kicked. “You’d think that tending to a halla would be nothing compared to saddling a dracolisk.”

Falura smiled at the other woman. “I’ve never had the opportunity to see a dracolisk in the flesh. I expect they are remarkable creatures.”

“Remarkable, but a pain.” Ellana said, a small smile touching her lips. Master Dennet had complained many a time about the reptilian mounts, and Ellana had found that the best tactic for dealing with them was to have a bucket of raw meat nearby to serve as bribery. “They were stubborn and spirited -- something several of my friends took great joy in, telling me that made it the perfect mount for me.”

“I have no doubt about that,” Falura said, squeezing Ellana’s shoulder and gesturing to the paddock gate, hinting that they should leave the halla be for a while before returning to remove the harness. “Since your return though, you have not always seemed to be yourself. It is as though… some of that spirit has faded away.”

Ellana gave a small sigh as she stepped through the paddock gate. Falura had always been a kind woman, and Ellana saw no point in shutting her out. “My return to the clan was not… I was not at my best when I returned, Falura. Even after all these months, I still don’t feel at my best. The way you said it -- that I don’t seem to be myself. I think that’s right. I don’t feel completely like myself anymore.”

Falura was silent for a moment, as though contemplating Ellana’s words. One thing that Ellana liked about Falura was that the older woman was a good listener. “The loss of your arm still affects you, doesn’t it?”

Ellana nodded in response as she directed her gaze to look at her stump. Sometimes Ellana still got a phantom itch, but for all she knew that was the remnant of the mark causing that. Even though she could no longer see it, she knew it was still there, inside of her body. Solas had said as much when he had removed her damaged arm. “It doesn’t hurt anymore… not physically. It’s more a pain inside of me, like when I think about all of the things that I can’t do now.”

“My son felt the same when he lost his arm to that wolf,” Falura said, closing the gate between the two of them. “He would dwell on it for hours during the day -- though eventually, he realised that it was better to focus on the things that he could still do, not the things that he couldn’t.”

Ellana could only just remember Falura’s son from her childhood. He had been a hunter too, and had gone to check his snares one morning, returning with a severe wound given to him by a hungry wolf that had caught the scent of the rabbits he had caught. Eventually, Falura’s son had fallen in love with a woman in another clan and had left them. Whenever they met other clans Falura always asked for news of him, but no-one had heard anything. It was difficult to keep in contact with family members who had moved on when the clans moved around so frequently.

“People keep telling me that I just need time,” Ellana said, returning her gaze to Falura. “And I am  _ so  _ sick of hearing it.”

“Time and good friends,” Falura said, giving Ellana’s shoulder another friendly squeeze, able to detect the younger woman’s evident frustration. “I know that you don’t like to talk about it, but no-one actually knows what happened to your arm, Ellana. Was it because of the mark you bore?”

“Sort of.” Ellana forced a smile -- over the past few months, it had often felt as though it was either smile or cry, and Ellana had tried to stick to the smiling, not wanting to let anyone see how deeply all of this had affected her. “It’s funny, Falura, because I lost my arm to a wolf too.”

***

Upon hearing that a dwarven stranger had approached the camp, Ellana pushed her way past the sentries, and was delighted to see Varric standing before them. Since setting up camp outside of Kirkwall, Varric had been too busy to come and visit but had sent a few messages with envoys. Several times when she had nothing to do, Ellana had thought of making the trek into Kirkwall to see Varric, but had then decided against it. Knowing that Solas had spies everywhere made her feel uneasy about walking through an unfamiliar, bustling city.

It was also a pleasant surprise to see none other than Dorian Pavus standing beside him, looking very much the same as he had done before taking up residence in Tevinter after the death of his father. Ellana assumed that he must have been trying not to draw attention to himself on this visit to Clan Lavellan, as it was likely that Dorian had far grander items of clothing back in his homeland.

“It’s okay,” Ellana said, turning back to the sentries with a smile on her face. “They’re friends.”

After a moment of quiet murmurs, the small group of sentries and other members of the clan who had came to see what was going on slowly dispersed, leaving Ellana alone with Varric and Dorian.

“Sparkler was starting to think we were in the wrong place,” Varric said. “Until we got that good old Dalish hospitality.”

Ellana snorted in amusement. “We hate dwarves even more than we hate humans. Especially dwarves with power.”

“If you’re going to take that attitude, I might just have to reduce the city guard patrols that have been stopping the scum that frequents Lowtown coming to harass you lot.” Varric said, smiling at Ellana. “It’s good to see you, Ellana. For a while we were all wondering if you were just going to disappear off the face of Thedas, never to be seen again.”

“Oh, it was tempting.” Ellana said, smiling as she walked over to Dorian and wrapped her arm around him in a friendly embrace. It was a long time since she had seen the magister, and she was glad of the surprise. “But I would probably miss you all too much.”

“Did you hear that, Varric?” Dorian asked, returning Ellana’s embrace with a teasing smile. “She said something that was almost soppy, and she hasn’t even been on the wine.”

“I take it back.” Ellana said flatly as she took a step back. “And that was only  _ one _ time. And the first time that I’d ever had such strong wine.”

“We only jest because we care -- and haven’t had the chance to for a while.” Varric said, his tone joyful and affectionate. “Speaking of beverages though, I don’t suppose you have some refreshment for weary travellers?”

“I’m sure we can find something,” Ellana replied. The merchants sent by Varric had brought perishable goods with them, which Ellana knew she and several other members of the clan were grateful for. There was only so much that you could eat the same kinds of food repeatedly until wishing for something more. “You’ll have to leave your weapons with the sentries, though.”

Varric sighed as he pulled Bianca from his back, resting the crossbow in his arms. “Your camp, your rules. Just tell your sentries to be careful with her -- she gets separation anxiety.”

After taking a small amount of food from the stores, Ellana led Varric and Dorian through the Dalish encampment, heading for the halla paddock. The far end of the camp would be quieter, which meant that it was less likely that they would be interrupted -- and there was also the fact that Ellana was aware that the majority of the clan probably would not appreciate her taste in friends. Although Clan Lavellan was less hostile than some of the other clans, they were still wary of outsiders, especially if they knew that one of them was a Tevinter Magister.

“We were expecting a warmer welcome,” Varric said, once they were sat on a blanket next to the halla paddock. “I thought you said that your clan didn’t mind humans.”

Ellana took a sip from the waterskin that she had brought with her, before offering it to the dwarf. Although Ellana had found that she was able to hold the neck of the waterskin and pop the cork out with one hand, she had difficulty replacing the cork when she was finished. Giving it to Varric meant that the dwarf could also have a drink, and she would not have to embarrass herself trying to replace the cork. “They’re a little on edge, being this far south. Clan Lavellan usually sticks to the northern Free Marches -- they’ve heard from other clans about the disarray down south, and they want no part of it.”

Varric accepted the waterskin with a grateful nod. “I can’t blame them. I don’t want any part of the disarray down here either.”

“You’re viscount.” Dorian reminded Varric, tearing off a small chunk of bread. “It’s your job to be part of the disarray.”

“People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, sparkler.” Varric said, taking a sip from the waterskin. Besides, at least I’m not the cause of the disarray. I’m trying to  _ fix _ the disarray after Kirkwall has taken one beating after another. Did you know Sebastian Vael wrote to me  _ again _ the other day? It’s like he can’t take a hint.”

Ellana smiled fondly, out of nostalgia. As Inquisitor, she had often received messages from Sebastian Vael. Royalty or not, he had been a fanatical pain in her arse. “Whenever I received letters from Sebastian Vael, I always used to let Cullen contact Guard-Captain Aveline and let her sort it out. You should talk to her, seeing as I assume she’s on your payroll.”

“She is,” Varric said. “But whenever she comes to see me, she always walks in like she’s expecting to leave with a desire to drown her sorrows in the nearest tavern. I’m sure giving her a chance to knock some heads together will warm her to my position.”

“It sounds as though your Guard-Captain would get on well with this one,” Dorian said, gesturing to Ellana with his piece of bread. “Is it bad that I miss ‘knocking heads’? In the magisterium I have to stick with word sparring. Though I’m sure I would have several magisters shitting themselves if I decided enough was enough and leapt over a table with my staff in my hand.”

Ellana was glad for the company of her friends, seeing as it had been a while since she had seen either of them. They chatted as they ate lunch, mostly about Varric’s duties as Kirkwall Viscount, and Dorian’s current progress in the magisterium -- even though it was very slow, but that was to be expected when trying to bring about such a great change.

Ellana made sure to keep the conversation mostly away from herself, not particularly wanting to tell Varric and Dorian about her position with her clan. Respect was all well and good, but she wanted to be up and doing things -- at least Falura did let her help with the halla. It was not a grand job, and far from what she had experienced as the Inquisitor, but at least it gave Ellana something to keep herself occupied.

“Y’know, the Iron Lady is throwing a big and fancy do in two months,” Varric said, once they had gotten onto the topic of how the other members of the disbanded Inquisition were now faring. “I’m sure that she would be pleased if you put in an appearance in front of all of her high and mighty friends -- besides, I think a couple of your own friends might be in attendance. Ruffles said that she was invited in her last letter, and I think Red might be too.”

“I was invited -- I believe it was something about the fact that there was a ‘good magister’ being a novelty to a large number of Orlesian nobles.” Dorian said, rolling his eyes.

“I’ve already told Vivienne that I’m unable to make it because of important viscount business,” Varric said, grinning at Dorian. “But I’ll give you five gold to cackle and twiddle your moustache evilly.”

“I might have to take you up on that.” Dorian said, smirking at Varric. “It might bring some excitement to the occasion.”

“Of course, I would need someone to verify that it happens in order for me to part with those five gold coins.” Varric said, turning his gaze to Ellana.

As Dorian turned to look at her as well, Ellana felt slightly uncomfortable. As far as she was concerned, she would not be attending Vivienne’s party. After stopping the Qunari invasion and losing her arm, Ellana had spent a few months staying in Vivienne’s mansion whilst she recovered. Eventually it had gotten to the stage where Vivienne had been frustrated with Ellana’s lack of progress, and Ellana had thrown that frustration right back at her. Ellana knew that what she had said to Vivienne had been purely awful -- but she had been hurting, and the result of that was lashing out at people who cared about her. After that argument, Ellana had packed her bags and left the mansion without a goodbye, seeking out her clan to live with instead.

“The last time Vivienne and I saw each other, we didn’t part on the best of terms.” Ellana explained, knowing that she would have to give some sort of reason as to why she did not want to attend the party -- Varric and Dorian would only keep asking if she just said no. “I doubt that she will want to see me.”

“You were going through a rough time back then.” Varric said, giving Ellana a companionable pat on the shoulder -- which somehow, was not patronising.

Ellana gave a small huff, picking some loose grass from the blanket. “That isn’t an excuse for being a bitch.”

“Maybe not an excuse,” Dorian pointed out, sipping from the waterskin. “But it might contribute to some understanding.”

“If it was coupled with a heartfelt apology.” Varric added, raising his eyebrows.

Ellana’s shoulders slumped as she let out a quiet sigh, because she could detect what both of them were hinting at. Both Varric and Dorian were right, of course, and she knew that if anyone was going to apologise about what had happened, then it would be her. “You two aren’t going to let this go, are you? If I say no, you’re just going to  _ somehow _ pester me with letters until I say yes, aren’t you?”

“Between myself and Maevaris and the  _ very  _ large amounts of money we have, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be too hard to find someone to keep delivering letters to you.” Dorian said, smiling at Ellana. “Why not save the messenger a lot of very long treks around Thedas and just say that you’ll go now?”

Dorian and Varric were both right, Ellana knew. Despite the falling out with Vivienne, the enchanter had been a very good friend of her’s, and Ellana knew that Vivienne deserved a lot better from her than some harsh words and a disappearance in the early hours of the morning.

“Alright.” Ellana agreed, and found herself smiling slightly when she saw the expressions of happiness and relief on Dorian and Varric’s faces. “I’ll go to this damned party. If Vivienne turns me to ice though, I expect that Dorian will be on hand to thaw me out.”

Dorian looked incredibly thoughtful for a moment, before he cracked a large smile. “Maybe after the party. I’m sure you would make a  _ wonderful _ ice sculpture.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After agreeing to travel to Orlais and see Vivienne, Ellana leaves Clan Lavellan and travels to Val Royeaux to meet with Dorian again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not intend this chapter to take me so long to write, considering that it's basically just a filler chapter. The only reason I didn't scrap the whole thing altogether was that I wanted to write a little bit about Ellana's friendship with Dorian.
> 
> That being said, I have agonised over this for like a month now, so I thought that it was just time to stop fiddling with it and post it so that the story can move on!

Ellana left her goodbye to Falura until last, when she was finally ready to leave Clan Lavellan and head for the Kirkwall docks. There were still a few weeks to go until the date of Vivienne’s party, but taking into account the time it would take to travel to Val Royeaux by sea, Ellana had decided to set off with plenty of time. Dorian had also agreed to meet her in the Orlesian city a few days before the party, and Ellana had an inkling that he wanted to help her pick out a ‘suitable’ outfit.

As expected, Falura was down by the halla paddock, grooming one of the female yearlings. Despite the difficulty that Ellana sometimes faced due to only having one hand, Ellana had enjoyed spending her time grooming and found the mundane task relaxing. It had always given her something to focus on whenever she was in need of distraction, and reminded her of being back in Skyhold, when she would spend time tending to her mounts to escape from the weight on her shoulders for a short time.

Ellana smiled to herself as several of the halla looked up as she approached, recognising her footsteps. When she entered the paddock and came to stand beside Falura, one of the older stags nosed at her arm, as though he was expecting her to give him a treat -- as she sometimes did, when Falura was absent and could not chastise her.

“Have you come to say goodbye?” Falura asked, turning to Ellana as she patted the halla she was grooming on the neck.

“Yes.” Ellana said, her smile broadening as the stag realised that she had no treats, and instead butted her hand until she stroked him on the nose. “I’m going miss you.”

“I will miss you too.” Falura said, smiling at Ellana as the stag she was petting licked her fingers. “And I think that the halla will too.”

Ellana wrinkled her nose slightly, not expecting to get licked, and then turned her attention back to Falura. “I wanted to say thank you to you, before I left. For everything that you’ve done for me. If not for you… well, I don’t know where I would be right now, Falura. I don’t it would be anywhere good though.”

“You were lost when you returned to us, Ellana. You were so sad and quiet -- so unlike the woman who left us those years ago.” Falura paused in grooming the halla, allowing her arm to drop to her side as she turned to face the other woman. “Whatever hurt you have suffered will fade with time -- all hurt does, eventually. Though it has only been a few months, I see you smile more than you did when you first returned to us.”

Falura had never pried or pressed Ellana to tell her what had happened in the years following the conclave, when she had become head of what was likely the most powerful organisation in the whole of Thedas. Falura had only ever asked a few questions about her time as Inquisitor, only really touching the surface about Ellana’s friendships and what Skyhold had been like. The most frequent topic of conversation between the two of them had been nature -- Falura would pass on her knowledge about the halla and would speak about the lands she had seen, and in return Ellana would tell Falura about the exotic mounts the Inquisition had acquired, and would also tell the other woman about all of the strange lands she had now visited.

Ellana smiled at Falura at that moment in time, glad that Falura seemed to be so genuinely pleased that she was moving on, even if it did mean leaving Clan Lavellan once again. When she had said farewell to the keeper, Ellana had been able to detect the veiled hints about wanting her to stay. “Perhaps the next time I see you, I’ll be smiling even more.”

Falura returned the other woman’s smile and reached out to embrace Ellana. “Be safe on your journey, Ellana. May the Dread Wolf never hear your steps.”

Ellana stiffened slightly at Falura’s words, though she hoped that the other woman would not notice. The words were often a farewell that the Dalish would utter to each other -- but many did it out of superstition and habit. Before the events that had followed her rise as the Inquisitor, Ellana had never believed in the Elven Gods as much more than fairy stories. She had worshipped more out of habit than anything else, and because it was something that the rest of the clan did. Now though, Ellana knew about the awful truth that lurked beneath those words.

“Stay well,” Ellana offered as a goodbye, closing her eyes. “I’ll see you again one day.”

***

Val Royeaux was exactly as Ellana remembered it when she stepped off the ship at the docks. She had chosen to travel by sea rather than by land because she had not wanted to leave herself alone and open to attack in the wilderness. After discovering that Solas when Fen’Harel, she tried to be as nearby to other people as possible -- not other elves, them she was wary of. However, the ship she had bought passage on had been crewed by humans, and Ellana doubted that any of them would be working with Solas, considering the attitude he seemed to hold towards anyone or anything mortal.

Of course, being an elf in Val Royeaux and obviously not a servant, Ellana drew a lot of attention upon leaving the ship. After noticing the vallaslin on her face, many others noticed her missing right hand, and Ellana was almost certain that if she listened hard enough she would be able to hear the whispers passing around the dock that the former Inquisitor, Ellana Lavellan, had set in Val Royeaux. Ellana wondered how long it would be until the whispers became distorted, when there would probably be a rumour that the Inquisition was to reunite and serve the empress.

Ellana was wary as she walked from the docks to the marketplace, her eyes darting along the streets and across the rooftops. Whenever she had been in Orlais in the past, she had never been alone. There had always been at least one of her companions with her to help keep a lookout and offer advice if it was needed. This time,there was no-one to talk to or ask questions, and Ellana also wished that she was accompanied by one of her friends to deflect some of the staring.

Dorian had hired some rooms in Val Royeaux for himself and Ellana to stay in whilst attending Vivienne’s party. All of the arrangements had been taken care of by Dorian, and passed on by Varric whilst Clan Lavellan had continued to reside outside of Kirkwall. All Ellana had to do was make sure that she showed up at the right place, which was a tavern named ‘The Golden Halla’. Clearly the rarity of such a creature was not reflected in the naming of inns and taverns around Thedas, as Ellana had seen several sharing the same name scattered around the continent on her travels.

Upon her arrival and after stating who she was, Ellana was shown upstairs by an elven servant, a woman who appeared to be close to her in age. Ellana tried not to make her discomfort obvious. The majority of servants were elves, and Ellana did not see why she needed them at her beckon call, when she was more than capable of taking care of herself. 

Another reason for her discomfort was that Ellana was no longer very trusting of her own kind. Ellana knew that Solas --  _ Fen’Harel _ \-- had agents spread across Thedas. Considering all of the whispering that had gone on between elven servants whenever Ellana had attended events at Halamshiral, it seemed common sense not to trust any of them. It was an unsettling idea that any of them could be spying on her and reporting her movements back to Solas.

As soon as she had looked around the rooms -- two bedrooms and a lounge with a balcony -- and decided that they were sufficient, Ellana requested some food for dinner and for water to be prepared for a bath. A plate was brought to her, which looked to be some sort of roasted meat and vegetables, which Ellana washed down with a cup of ale whilst her bath was prepared. After announcing that the bath was ready, the servant cleared Ellana’s plate away and asked if there was anything else that she needed that evening. There was nothing, so Ellana dismissed the servant until morning, and when she was certain that the elven woman had left, she stripped out of her clothes -- a difficult task, with one hand -- and climbed into the hot water to relax.

The chance to bathe was incredibly welcome after being stuck on a ship for such a long time. In fact, Ellana spent a long just wallowing in the hot water, before she decided that it was time for her to get out. After climbing out of the bath, Ellana walked over the wardrobe, not bothering to dry off with a towel. The evening was warm, and the slight breeze would be enough to dry Ellana off before she dressed herself for bed. As she searched through the wardrobe, Ellana’s expression became more and more irritated, as everything that seemed to have been deemed suitable as nightwear was silky and frilly.

Seeing as Dorian still had yet to arrive, Ellana slipped through the adjoining door and into the room that would be his. Thankfully, his wardrobe was already well stocked too and after a moment of searching Ellana was able to find a nightshirt which she pulled on over her head. It was a nightshirt for a man, and obviously not going to fit properly, but it was comfortable, and that was all that Ellana cared about.

After returning to her own room, Ellana flopped down on the bed, pulling the blankets up to cover herself. Whilst eating and then washing, she had failed to realise how tired she was, and it took almost no time at all for the former Inquisitor to drift off into a deep sleep.

***

It was still quite early that morning, when Ellana awoke to a noise. Unsure of what i was, Ellana slipped out of bed and quietly left her bedroom, only to find breakfast being served on the balcony by the same elven servant who had attended to her the day before. After reassuring herself that there was no danger, Ellana crossed the lounge room and took a seat on the chaise longue on the balcony, where it looked as though the servant had prepared a pot of drinking chocolate and several pastries.

Ignoring the strange look the servant was giving the night shirt she was wearing, Ellana poured herself a cup of chocolate and sat cross-legged on the chaise longue, looking towards the rest of the city. From her seat on the balcony, Ellana could see Val Royeaux starting to wake up and come alive for a busy day ahead. On the streets below, several vendors were starting to set up their market stools -- most likely fine fabrics and expensive trinkets in this part of the city. Some of them were yelling at street urchins to stay away, whilst others called to the children and offered them a piece of silver if they were willing to help.

It was after Ellana sent the servants back to the kitchen to fetch more pastries that Dorian arrived, sweeping onto the balcony and looking more like his usual extravagant self. What he wore was nothing like the plain clothes he had been dressed in when he had visited Clan Lavellan. Now that he was back in his element, Dorian was dressed in black and gold, with a very expensive looking staff strapped to his back.

“I’ve come a frightfully long way overnight, so I hope you’re willing to share.” Dorian said, eyeing the pot of drinking chocolate on the table. “Though I did tell the servant to fetch an extra cup in passing, so you don’t really have all that much of a choice.”

Ellana uncrossed her legs and shuffled along the chaise longue, before she patted the seat next to her as a hint that Dorian should join her. “It’s a good thing that I asked for extra pastries as well, isn’t it?”

“An incredibly good thing,” Dorian said, propping his staff up against the wall next to the doorway, before he took a seat on the chaise longue alongside Ellana. “I have to admit, I was surprised to find that you were already here.”

“The ship had a favourable wind.” Ellana replied, sipping her chocolate. “And you know that I don’t like to be late to anything. I made sure that I left the Free Marches with plenty of time to reach Val Royeaux, just in case something did go wrong.”

The servant returned a moment later, carrying a loaded tray. There was an extra cup, as Dorian had requested, and another plate stacked with several pastries, which the servant set down in the middle of the table.

Once she had dismissed the servant once again, Ellana set her empty cup back down on the table and smiled at Dorian as she reached for another pastry, this one coated in icing sugar. “I assume there’s a reason why you wanted to meet me with a few days to spare?”

“Of course there is,” Dorian said, picking up the pot of chocolate to pour some into the second cup that the servant had brought. “Because I doubt that you have any idea of what you’re going to wear.”

As she had a mouthful of pastry at that moment in time, Ellana settled for pulling a face at Dorian. So her suspicions had been correct after all.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Dorian said, tutting as he stirred his chocolate. “You’re clearly in need of my help. For example, did you know that you’re wearing a  _ man’s  _ nightshirt?”

Ellana glared at Dorian as she swallowed her mouthful of croissant. “Yes, I did know. I stole it from the wardrobe in your room, because the one in my room was stuffed full of lacy…  _ things _ .”

“Well yes,” Dorian said, giving a small shake of his head. “Things like that are what Orlesian women tend to wear.”

“It’s a good thing that I’m not an Orlesian woman then, isn’t it?” Ellana asked, somehow resisting the rather childish urge to stick her tongue out at Dorian.

“It isn’t when you’re going to an Orlesian party.”

***

“How the hell am I supposed to  _ breathe _ ?”

“In through the nose and out through the mouth?” Dorian suggested, leaning against the doorway of the fitting room.

Ellana glared at Dorian, suggesting that she did not find his comment amusing, before directing her glare at the dressmaker who was  _ still _ tightening the corset. It seemed ridiculous to Ellana, forcing yourself to wear something that seemed so uncomfortable. Perhaps to the Orlesians, it somehow felt comfortable. Ellana had no idea. All she knew was that she did not want to be wearing the stupid corset.

“I wore a tunic and trousers to the Winter Palace…  _ twice _ .” Ellana insisted, gesturing at the dressmaker to stop what she was doing and start taking the damned thing off. There was no way that Ellana was going to be wearing  _ this _ . “What’s changed now that means I have to wear this awful thing?”

“When we were at the Winter Palace, you grumbled that you wanted to wear a beautiful dress like the ladies of the court get to,” Dorian reminded Ellana, turning his back to the elven woman whilst the dressmaker started to remove the corset, and then of course the other items of clothing that Ellana was wearing. “Back then you were  _ moaning _ about wearing a tunic and trousers. Is there just no pleasing you?”

“Back then I didn’t realise that the ladies of the court were masochists.” Ellana stated, taking a deep breath once the corset was loosened. “Can’t I wear something that I’m going to be comfortable in?”

“I’m sure we can find something comfortable  _ and _ stylish for you to wear.” Dorian said, sighing. “As long as it isn’t another male nightshirt.”

After several hours of bickering between Dorian and Ellana, the dressmaker eventually came up with something that the elven woman was willing to wear. It was a simple gown by Orlesian standard, made of a dark, emerald green fabric and finished with a sort of golden trim over the bodice and part of the skirt. The dressmaker said that they would have the gown finished and delivered within two days, meaning that there was still time to spare for any last minute adjustments.

Due to Ellana’s complaints about being hungry, Dorian agreed to a quick lunch before they moved on to the next few shops that he was insistent on taking Ellana to. Throughout lunch, Ellana and Dorian conversed about what they knew had happened to the rest of their companions since the final mission that the Inquisition had undertaken. One person whom Ellana asked about was Cullen, but Dorian said that he was unsure about what had happened to the commander since the last time that they had seen him -- in Dorian’s opinion, it was likely that Cullen had returned to Ferelden and was living in the mud with a pack of mabari hounds.

After lunch, Dorian dragged Ellana to a few more shops, insisting that she needed accessories and shoes to match her dress. When she was all but marched into a jewellery shop by Dorian, Ellana was expecting to have every possible accessory thrown at her by her friend, until she looked more like an ornament herself. Instead, Dorian seemed to have accepted the fact that Ellana would like to appear more understated than the Orlesians, and instead just picked out a small headpiece which would match her dress. Of course, Dorian did not leave the shop without buying several bangles and some earrings for himself, which Ellana teased him about mercilessly.

The final shop that Dorian planned to visit with Ellana was a shoe shop, which he said had been recommended to him by Leliana. Ellana knew how much Leliana loved shoes, and trusted the other woman’s judgement -- Leliana did not seem as though she would be the type to send someone to get an ugly pair of shoes.

Whilst Dorian conversed with the shoe maker and showed him a scrap of fabric to match the dress that Ellana would be wearing, Ellana herself was browsing the items on the shelves. Just looking at some of the shoes was making her feet ache, and Ellana hoped that Dorian understood that she spend most of her life either in boots or going barefoot, so having a ridiculous heel would help no-one, especially not her.

“The shoemaker says that he thinks he has something in the back that might match your dress.” Dorian said, coming to stand beside Ellana.

“I don’t see why I  _ can’t _ wear riding boots,” Ellana said, looking up at Dorian -- ensuring that her expression gave nothing away, as she wanted to see the other man’s reaction to her idea of a joke. “They would be hidden under my dress.”

As Dorian opened his mouth to begin an incredibly long-winded lecture on the exact reasons why riding boots under a formal dress would be a crime against fashion, the shoemaker appeared, carrying a pair of dark green shoes, which were only just a shade off from that of Ellana’s dress. Before Dorian could protest about the minor colour difference, Ellana plonked herself down on a chair and asked him to help her try on the shoes. Of course, only having one hand meant that it could be difficult for Ellana to take off a pair of shoes and put them on as well, so of course Dorian agreed, and knelt down in front of the chair.

Once Dorian had removed Ellana’s boots and slipped the shoes onto her feet, he sat back on his heels and looked up at her. “How do those feel?”

Ellana frowned slightly as she wriggled her toes within the shoes. They actually seemed to be quite comfortable, so she stood up to see if she could actually walk in them. The heel was reasonable and clacked lightly on the floor of the shop as she took a couple of steps, and still the shoes felt as though they would be comfortable -- for most of a night, anyway. The moment she would be able to, then Ellana would be kicking the shoes off and walking around bare foot.

“Are you going to faint if I say that I actually like these?” Ellana asked Dorian, standing in front of a short mirror and turning her feet to inspect the shoes from every angle. 

“Possibly,” Dorian answered. “In which case you would have to carry me back to our rooms.”

Ellana let out a snort of amusement, sitting back down so that Dorian could help her remove the shoes and put her boots back on. “No way, you’re too heavy.”

***

Upon arrival back at their rooms, the servant brought dinner upstairs for Dorian and Ellana. This time, Ellana and Dorian sat in the lounge room and ate, speaking every now and then. Dorian wanted to know how about Ellana’s life with her clan, and whether the mark had been bothering her since Solas removed it.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Ellana said, stabbing her fork into a potato. “But I don’t know, sometimes I think I can still feel it somehow. Solas said that the mark would still kill me, and that he was buying me some time -- I don’t have any idea what that means, but probably nothing good.”

Dorian nodded in agreement and sipped from his goblet of wine. “It very rarely is.”

Ellana gave a small smile. “What a depressing outlook we both have.”

“It must be all of this ham that tastes like despair.”

Ellana covered her mouth as she giggled quietly. “If that’s the case, then despair seems to taste pretty good.”

The sound of Ellana’s quiet laughter made Dorian smile too, considering some days it had seemed as though Ellana would never smile again, after she had returned through the eluvian with her hand missing and tears streaming down her cheeks. They had been good friends since Dorian had joined the Inquisition, and he had not wanted to leave her after those unfortunate events, but Tevinter had needed him greatly. Dorian had considered that she would be safe with Vivienne, but then when he heard that Ellana had left Orlais, he had been overcome with worry, as no-one had a clear idea of where she had intended to go.

“I’d like to make a toast.” Dorian stated, lifting his goblet.

“A toast?” Ellana asked in slight surprise, setting down her fork so that she could pick up her own goblet. “That seems a bit formal for us, doesn’t it?”

“Shush you, and just accept it. I want to make a toast to no more despair.” Dorian declared, touching his goblet to Ellana’s.

Ellana tapped her goblet against Dorian’s and smiled at the mage. “I don’t think I can promise anything.”

“I’m not asking you to make a promise, but…” Dorian paused in thought for a moment, as he contemplated what to say instead. “Alright then. A toast to no more despairing  _ alone _ . Do you think you would be able to manage that?”

“I can try.” Ellana said, taking a gulp of wine.

Dorian smiled at her. “I don’t think I can ask for anymore than that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> The next chapter should be leading up to/will be the party at Vivienne's estate - depends how much it runs away from me. The next chapter should also involve Cullen, which I'm definitely looking forward to ~


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana and Dorian attend Vivienne's party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long it's taken to post this chapter! Life has been kicking my arse, what with recently starting a new job, so I haven't had as much time to sit around and write. Anyway, I'll hopefully get the next chapter up quicker, and thank you to everyone who has been reading and following the story so far! :)

“You’re awfully quiet.”

“Shame you’re not.” Ellana muttered as a retort.

Dorian folded his arms and raised his eyebrows at the elven woman sat on the opposite side of the carriage.

Ellana held Dorian’s gaze for a moment, before she eventually gave up with a heavy sigh. Instead of looking at Dorian, Ellana opted to stare out of the carriage window instead, watching as the streets passed by. They were on their way to Vivienne’s estate outside of Val Royeaux, set to arrive before all of the other guests, so that Ellana and Vivienne might have a chance to talk.

“Are you nervous?” Dorian asked, tilting his head to the side to study his companion.

Ellana turned her gaze back to Dorian and mimicked his earlier expression, raising her eyebrows. “What do you think?”

Dorian smiled at Ellana. “I think I’ll take that as a yes.”

“What if she doesn’t want to see me, Dorian?” Ellana asked, sighing again as she fiddled with her skirts so that they would sit right. “I’m not even  _ invited  _ to this thing, I’m just tagging along with you.”

“The invitation said I was allowed a plus one,” Dorian reminded Ellana. “And from what I can recall, there was nothing that explicitly said ‘do not bring Ellana Lavellan with you’, so I’m sure it’ll be fine. If not, you have my permission to run for the nearest balcony and hope that it isn’t too high of a drop when you jump off it.”

“I thought you wanted me to be made into a ‘lovely ice sculpture’?”

“Perhaps if Vivienne actually froze you with a smile on your face,” Dorian conceded. “Otherwise, you might scare all of her guests away.”

Ellana scoffed at him and slouched on the bench seat, returning her gaze to the window.

“Nuh uh,” Dorian chastised, shaking his head. “Sit up straight or you’ll crease the fabric.”

Ellana let out an exaggerated sigh and sat up straight, resting her hand daintily in her lap as she shot a steely look across the carriage at Dorian. “Is this better?”

“Much.” Dorian responded, smiling at Ellana. “Keep on doing that, and the rest of Vivienne’s guests might mistake you for being civilised.”

The gesture that Ellana gave Dorian in response was definitely  _ not _ civilised.

***

Standing in the empty vestibule, Ellana was starting to realise how early she and Dorian really were. Servants were still rushing back and forth, carrying anything from heavy platters which needed laying out, to last minute decorations which needed to be hung up. The hustle and bustle made Ellana feel slightly uncomfortable, and she stuck close to Dorian’s shoulder as they walked through the vestibule, trying to stay out of the way. A servant showed them to the grand hall, where Vivienne apparently was, giving some sort of direction and order to the chaos.

Standing in the centre of the room in a magnificent white ball gown, Vivienne looked as majestic as always. Ellana could not imagine a time when she had ever seen the enchanter look anything otherwise -- even in the heat of battle, Vivienne never looked to be anything less than perfect. If anything, she had seemed to be more, a powerful and commanding figure of wrath and magic.

If the atmosphere in the grand hall was anything to go by, Vivienne seemed to project a similar aura when directing her servants to ensure that everything was perfect for that night.

Now that she was actually there, Ellana was starting to think that this was less and less of a good idea -- for starters, becoming an ice sculpture was not on her list of things to do, and with the mood Vivienne was currently in, it seemed as though it could be a possibility. Ellana reached out and gripped Dorian’s sleeve, dropping back so that she would be half obscured by her friend as they approached Vivienne.

“Madame de Fer,” Dorian greeted, shaking Ellana’s grip from his sleeve as he approached Vivienne with his arms outstretched to embrace the other mage. “A pleasure to see you, as always.”

“Magister Pavus,” Vivienne said, presenting her cheek for Dorian to kiss. “I’m glad that you were able to make it. From what I’ve heard, affairs in your country have been… rather tense of late.”

“Nothing that I can’t handle, I assure you.” Dorian said, smiling at Vivienne. “Besides, it gives me plenty of practice for whenever I return to the south -- I would hate for our word sparring to become dull.”

“I’m sure that there’s no danger of that,” Vivienne said, returning Dorian’s smile, before she caught sight of Ellana standing behind the magister.

Ellana watched as Vivienne’s expression changed from pleased to see Dorian, to… well, something else. Something that did not seem as though it held such pleasant feelings, and Ellana could not help but feel uncomfortable. The last thing that she wanted to do was cause any trouble for Vivienne on the night that she was hosting a grand event, and Ellana wondered briefly if it would be best for her to just leave.

“Inquisitor,” Vivienne started, stepping forwards.

Dorian stepped aside as she did, and Ellana wanted to follow him, to seek shelter behind him before Vivienne turned her into an ice sculpture -- and she definitely would not have a smile on her face as she was frozen. All Ellana could do was hope that her face was not morphed into some sort of ridiculous expression which would be ridiculed by the other guests. Unfortunately though, Dorian walked away and started conversing with one of the servants about wine, leaving Ellana to face Vivienne alone.

“Madame de Fer,” Ellana greeted, bowing her head respectfully. She was unsure of how to properly greet Vivienne, but a head tilt seemed to work in most situations -- a curtsey seemed like it would earn Ellana a quick, fiery death for being facetious, and a handshake did not seem to be right at all. It was difficult to imagine Vivienne shaking hands with anyone unless she was the one who invoked the interaction. “I hope you’ve been well since we last saw each other.”

“I have.” Vivienne answered. “How have you been, my dear?”

There was no warmth or coolness in Vivienne’s tone to give away her feelings in this situation -- and Ellana hated that. She wished that Vivienne would just get the yelling over with, so then maybe they could get on with fixing this situation. Ellana knew that she had been selfish and spiteful when she had fought with Vivienne before she left, so she deserved anything that the other woman wanted to throw her way.

“I’ve… I’ve been better than I was.” Ellana answered, her head nodding involuntarily. She was unsure of where to start and what to say -- all Ellana really knew was that she wanted to apologise. “It’s done me well, having some time away with my clan. It’s made me realise that I may have hurt some people while I was hurting, and I may not have treated them with the respect they deserved at the time.”

“Oh?” Vivienne asked, raising her eyebrows.

“I am sorry for how I treated you, Vivienne.” Ellana said, hoping that her words sounded sincere. “You only wanted what was best for me, and I refused to even try and let you help me.”

“By treating you as though you were myself,” Vivienne said. “That was how I was trying to help you. You know that I believe that emotion is weak. You remember how had it was for me to allow you to witness my suffering when I lost Bastien. I thought that what you needed was to do the same -- to hold your head high and pretend that you were no longer hurting. Instead though, what you needed was a friend to acknowledge that you were hurting and help you through it.”

Ellana felt a smile tugging at her lips, because maybe, it did seem as though things would be okay between the two of them. “Come on, we both know I needed a firm kick up the backside.”

“Well,” Vivienne said, a slight smile starting to appear on her own features. “I am trying to be nice.”

“Forgive me?”

“On the condition that you do the same for me.”

***

As they had been so early, Vivienne had taken Dorian and Ellana up to one of the many lounge rooms in the chateaux to catch up -- and drink wine, considering that seemed to be one of Dorian and Vivienne’s favourite activities, and one of the few things that they disagreed over. They had been up there for an hour or so before other guests had started to arrive, which meant that Ellana had consumed enough alcohol to give her cheeks a rosy glow, and lift her mood despite having to spend her evening in the company of a lot of Orlesian nobles.

Ellana was currently standing with Dorian, feeling more comfortable standing with him than she would mingling on her own. Despite Ellana’s semi-dislike of high society affairs such as this, it was actually quite pleasant -- especially because Ellana was able to be there purely as herself, without any diplomatic responsibilities that had come with being the leader of the Inquisition. There was no obligation to speak to anyone to arrange trade deals on behalf of the Inquisition or anything such as that, meaning that Ellana was free to speak to whomever she wished to -- and if there was someone whom she would rather not talk with, then she was able to avoid them without the threat of some sort of disaster befalling Thedas.

“Half the people here keep staring at us.” Ellana muttered, attempting to keep her head up like Dorian had instructed her to, even though she kept wanting to look down as she walked and make sure that she was not going to trip over her skirts.

“Because we’re the most beautiful people in this room,” Dorian responded, glancing at Ellana out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s the reason.” Ellana muttered. The way that her hair had been pinned up concealed her pointed ears, but the vallaslin on her face likely gave her away as an elf -- and of course, despite being in Vivienne’s house, other Orlesian nobles who were there would likely be… well, hopefully not quite disgusted by her presence, but potentially something close to it.

“It is.” Dorian insisted.

There was a group of several noblewomen staring at them and whispering as they crossed the chamber. Ellana paused in her steps for a moment and wrinkled her nose at them and all of their obnoxiously frilly clothes, ready to trade insults if provoked.

Dorian tutted and gave Ellana’s arm a light tug to motion for her to continue walking. “Stop that. You’ll get frown lines, and then I’ll have to spend a small fortune on sending you special ointments from Tevinter to get rid of them.”

“Clearly that small fortune would be a waste of money, seeing as your crow’s feet are showing.” Ellana retorted, looking up at Dorian.

Dorian glared at Ellana. “Considering that you’re probably still stressing yourself out about coming here, I’ll let you have that one.”

“They make you look distinguished.” Ellana said, with a hint of a teasing smile appearing on her lips. “You should just leave them be -- like your grey hair.”

Dorian narrowed his eyes at Ellana, attempting to come up with a witty retort. Unfortunately though, he was unable to think of one fast enough, meaning that Ellana was off the hook… for now. Still, he would ensure that he got his revenge at a later date, and instead decided to divert Ellana’s attention elsewhere. “Is that our dear old commander standing near the buffet table looking ever so uncomfortable?”

Ellana looked around until she managed to spot the buffet table, and yes, it did look as though it was Cullen standing at the table, surrounded by a crowd of well dressed men and women -- and of course he looked uncomfortable, just as he had at Halamshiral. Ellana knew that Cullen held a dislike for Orlesians anyway, but to her, it always looked a bit more beyond that when he was surrounded by a group of them pandering for his attention.

“Perhaps we should rescue him.” Ellana suggested. Really though, there was no perhaps about it, and she tugged on Dorian’s arm to steer the magister in the direction she wanted to go.

As they grew closer, Ellana was able to see more of Cullen, as he was no longer obscured by the crowd of people. With slight surprise, Ellana noted that Cullen’s tunic was a similar shade of green to her dress, and watched as he nodded along with whatever Orlesian rubbish was being spouted at him by an incredibly flamboyant looking nobleman and his wife. At least Cullen seemed to have learnt how to convincingly feign interest now, unlike several occasions as part of the Inquisition when his response to certain events had been less than tactful.

Eventually Cullen caught sight of Ellana and Dorian standing off to the side, and there was a flicker of surprise on his face for a moment, before he returned to politely listening to the nobleman who was speaking to him. At the first chance he got, however, Cullen excused himself from the conversation, and he made his way over to where Ellana and Dorian were standing.

“Commander,” Dorian greeted, smiling as Cullen approached them. “Well, former-commander, as it is now, I suppose. That doesn’t have such a nice ring to it though.”

“Dorian.” Cullen said, nodding in the other man’s direction. He then turned to look at Ellana, his smile warm and fond. “Inqui-- Ellana… I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Neither did Vivienne.” Ellana replied, unable to stop herself returning Cullen’s smile. “At least she seemed pleased to see me”

“Well… I am too.” Cullen said. “It’s been a while.”

Ellana nodded. It had been a while since she had seen any of her friends from the Inquisition, and it was all down to her doing. In hindsight, she realised now that perhaps it had not been too good for her to shut herself away from everyone who cared about her… but that was the past, and she was unable to change that now. “Yes, it has.”

“Oh, would you look at that!” Dorian exclaimed, peering into his goblet -- and looking  _ too _ shocked to be genuine. “I’ve run out of wine! I’ll be back shortly -- I just need to track down a servant.”

Ellana watched as Dorian hurried away, her eyebrows raised in confusion. That seemed slightly… odd. Well, really it probably was far from odd, considering that it was Dorian going after more  _ wine _ . It had been a rather abrupt exit though, and it was only after a moment that Ellana remembered that she was standing there in front of Cullen, who was looking at her with a slight puzzled expression.

After another moment of silence, Cullen cleared his throat and spoke. “That’s a… your dress is a nice green.”

“Thank you,” Ellana said, feeling her face warm as she looked down at herself, observing the colour of her dress. She looked up again and smiled at Cullen after a moment. “Right back at you, I guess… not that you’re wearing a dress -- your tunic.”

“I wasn’t sure about the colour, but I’m glad you like it.”

“Well, it suits you.” Ellana said, feeling her smile broaden as she examined Cullen’s tunic. It looked to be incredibly well tailored. “I think we’re wearing almost the same green, you know.”

“I think it must be in fashion at the moment,” Cullen responded. “Dorian was very insistent that I wear it.”

“Dorian was?” Ellana questioned. Dorian had taken her shopping too, of course. Was there anyone in Orlais whom Dorian had not decided to become personal shopper for?

“Yes, I met him in Val Royeaux a few days ago, and he insisted upon taking me shopping.” Cullen said, a slight grimace on his face. “He said that I wasn’t allowed to wear the same thing that I wore to Halamshiral  _ twice _ , and that he was going to ensure that I had something different to wear, even if it was just a change of colour. In the tailors he asked them to bring out everything green that they had and kept refusing until he saw this colour.”

“He took you shopping a few days ago?” Ellana asked, frowning slightly. One morning when she had been having breakfast with Dorian, he had said that he had some business to take care of that day and had disappeared for the whole morning, returning around lunch time looking very pleased with himself.

“He did,” Cullen answered, nodding.

“That’s… interesting.” Ellana said, narrowing her eyes slightly, as she recalled her own shopping trip with the magister. “Seeing as he took me shopping too -- and as soon as we had settled on a design with the dressmaker, she produced  _ this _ green fabric and started to make a dress out of it.”

“I assume that you don’t think this is just a mere coincidence?” Cullen asked, raising his eyebrows slightly at Ellana.

“No. I don’t.” Ellana said, scanning the room for Dorian -- who had somehow managed to disappear completely. There was no sign of him near the drinks table, or near any of the servants who were in sight and carrying trays with goblets of wine. “I’m sure he has some sort of reason for it.”

“Perhaps he wanted us to dress to match, so that we could then pretend that we came as a pair and would be able to spend the night safe from too many interactions with Orlesian nobles.” Cullen said, smiling slightly at Ellana. “I suppose I should mingle though, seeing as I’m the reason everyone is here.”

Ellana raised her eyebrows at Cullen and smiled. Sometimes Cullen’s humour could be slightly awkward, and that kind of arrogance seemed as though it did not suit him all too well. “That’s a bit big-headed for you. Perhaps you’ve been spending too much time with Dorian, and that shopping trip has changed you.”

Cullen’s face darkened with a flush, and he reached up to rub the back of his neck -- something that he always did whenever he was nervous. “No, that’s not… I mean I  _ am  _ the reason why everyone is here. Vivienne was throwing this party to raise money for my latest venture.”

“Oh.” Ellana said, her eyes widening slightly with surprise. No-one had mentioned anything to her as to why Vivienne had actually been hosting such an extravagant party -- Ellana had just expected that it was normal and had not even thought to question it. Now she was starting to feel slightly awkward about turning up out of the blue, in case she had taken some of the attention away from whatever cause it was that Vivienne had decided was worthy of one of her legendary parties. “I had no idea… what is it that you’re doing?”

“I set up a sanctuary of sorts, for templars who are struggling with lyrium addiction, or are just at a loss for what to do when they leave the order.” Cullen explained. “Divine Victoria granted me the land to do so, but Vivienne has taken up patronage for the charity. She agreed to hold this event to raise some money, so that our work can reach those who it might not get to otherwise.”

“Well, congratulations. You must have put a lot of hard work into it.” Ellana said, offering Cullen a smile. During her time as Inquisitor, Ellana had seen Cullen struggle with his own lyrium addiction, and knew that the cause was one that was close to his heart. There was no-one else who Ellana could think of that would be able to do a better job of it. “I’m sorry I didn’t know anything about it. I’ve sort of… been off the edge of the map for a while.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Cullen told Ellana, returning the smile. That was one of the great things about Cullen -- he was always sincere. There was never any uncertainty with where one stood with the former commander of the Inquisition’s military forces. “I heard that you went back to your clan.”

Ellana nodded in response, wondering briefly who had told Cullen. Had it been Dorian, seeing as he seemed to be close enough to Cullen to whisk him off on shopping trips without too many questions? “After everything that happened… I just needed some time away.”

“Did it help?” Cullen asked, and there was that sincerity again. Cullen genuinely wanted to know if she was… well, better now.

“Definitely.” Ellana replied, nodding again. “I mean, I’m not back to normal -- I don’t think I’ll ever be. But I’m in a much better place now.”

“I’m glad.” Cullen said, smiling.

Considering that Dorian had seemingly vanished into thin air, Ellana decided that staying with Cullen was the best idea -- considering that was where Dorian had left her, anyway. If he came back, standing with Cullen was hopefully the first place that the magister would look for her. As the party was to raise funds for Cullen’s templar sanctuary, occasionally various noblemen and women would stop by to talk to the former commander and ask him questions. Ellana would mostly just listen to the conversation, and would only add anything when she was addressed directly. It was nice listening to Cullen talk, especially when it was something that he was passionate about.

A while later, when Dorian did eventually reappeared, it was with a wine glass in each hand, one of which he gave to Ellana. Ellana accepted the beverage with a smile, seeing as it had been a while since her last glass, and she wanted to make sure that the warm, happy feeling stayed for a little while longer.

“For yourself?” Dorian asked, offering the other goblet to Cullen.

“No thank you,” Cullen answered, smiling at Dorian. “I think I’ve had quite enough.”

Dorian tutted, shrugged, and took a swig from the goblet. “Suit yourself. It’s a remarkably good vintage -- well, not that I would expect anything less from Vivienne.”

Ellana gave a shrug of her own. She had never cared much about what was a ‘good vintage’. All she really cared about was that it was alcohol and it tasted nice. “I just like the wine.”

Cullen turned his expression to Ellana, and he smiled at her. “We can tell.”

For a moment, Ellana just stared back at Cullen’s face, thinking about how nice it was to see him after so long. When she had first met Cullen, she had found him to be quite rigid and distrusting -- and Ellana had often felt as though they would merely be acquaintances, only ever interacting when it was necessary for them to. It had not been until after the destruction of Haven that Ellana had really started to make an effort to talk with Cullen, and from there a friendship had slowly started to grow between the two of them.

A moment later Ellana realised that she was just standing there staring at Cullen’s face without saying anything, and lifted her goblet to sip from before she narrowed her eyes. “Am I supposed to feel a little insulted by that?”

“What have I told you? Take everything as a compliment.” Dorian reminded Ellana. “That way you cause your enemies nothing but never ending frustration.”

“I’m sure you do that anyway.” Ellana said to Dorian, smiling at the magister.

Dorian pressed a hand to his chest in mock-shock, before he turned his attention back to Cullen. “Cullen, can you please whisk her away for a dance and distract her from verbally attacking me for a while? She’s been doing it since I made her have a bath this afternoon.”

“And risk being attacked myself?” Cullen asked, his eyebrows quirking upwards. “No thank you.”

“Come on, you two, ‘attacked’ is a bit of a strong word.” Ellana said, rolling her eyes. After she had bathed and one of the elven servants had come to help her get ready, the reality of where she was going had finally sunk into Ellana -- which was why she had been slightly snappish and defensive with Dorian for most of the afternoon and evening. “You haven’t done anything to warrant being attacked.”

“And I’d like things to stay that way,” Cullen replied, smiling at Ellana. “Which they won’t if I stand on your toes.”

In truth, Ellana was a little torn. In some regard, she would have liked it if Cullen were to dance with her -- not that she ever would have admitted that out loud, because as a general rule she hated dancing and things like that. Ellana was also relieved that it seemed as though they would not be dancing though, considering that she was unsure of how she and Cullen would actually get into hold -- without her left hand, Ellana was unsure of how they would work that out, and the last thing that she wanted to do was embarrass herself or the Inquisition’s former-commander because of it.

Ellana returned Cullen’s smile. “Those stupid shoes are causing me enough pain without having my feet trodden on.”

Dorian tutted. “Sometimes you have to suffer a little if you want to look good.”

Ellana turned to Dorian and sipped her wine, narrowing her eyes at him. “I really want to bring up the fact that you used to wander around Emprise du Lion in a flimsy robe and constantly moan about the cold, but I know you’ll accuse me of attacking you again.”

Cullen stayed and talked with Dorian and Ellana for a little while longer, before Vivienne appeared and insisted upon dragging him away to converse with some nobles who were interested in hearing more about his templar refuge. It was a little after Cullen had been pulled away that Ellana started to realise how exhausted she was starting to feel. The last time that Ellana had been surrounded by so many people had been at Halamshiral, awaiting to hear what the fate of the Inquisition would be.

Ellana tugged lightly on Dorian’s sleeve, diverting the mage’s attention away from a nearby conversation about whether ruffles were going to be in season or not within the coming months. Orlesians and their fashion. If Dorian brought the topic up at some point, then Ellana was going to have to plead him not to start wearing ruffles, because there was no other word for them than  _ awful _ .

“I’m tired.” Ellana said, aware that she possibly reminded Dorian of a whiny child at that moment in time, and was likely to get a comment along those lines as a retort. “Can we go soon?”

Dorian regarded her carefully for a moment, as though he was trying to work out if ‘tired’ was the genuine feeling that Ellana was experiencing, or whether it was just because she was bored at such an event now that it was just the two of them again. After a few moments of study, Dorian seemed to be satisfied that Ellana’s desire to leave did have genuine cause, and he nodded.

“Let’s go and tell Vivienne. If we just vanished without a trace then she might not speak to either of us again.”

***

Upon arrival back at their rooms, Ellana kicked off her shoes, groaning at the relief of finally being able to free her feet. She had been about to take them off in the carriage on the way home, but Dorian had reminded her that if she thought her feet hurt now, then it would be far worse when she put her shoes back on to get out of the carriage -- and of course, had followed up with a comment about how he would be unable to stand the smell.

“I could sleep for a week.” Ellana stated, collapsing face down on the bed, letting out a contented sigh.

Dorian dismissed the servants, before he closed the door and turned to look at Ellana, his arms folded and his eyebrows raised. “Not in my bed you don’t.”

Ellana grumbled something, which was muffled by the pillows, and made a rude gesture in Dorian’s direction -- one of many that evening. Anyone else may have been insulted, but Dorian felt a smile tugging at his lips. At least Ellana was back to making rude signs at him -- and most likely a few other people too. After Solas had disappeared once again, taking Ellana’s arm and the mark with him, it was like he had taken more of that from her.

Dorian took a seat on the edge of the bed and looked down at Ellana. “Let me guess: you’re drunk, tired, and incredibly comfortable; so you’re not going to move?”

Words did not even come out of Ellana’s mouth that time, just the steady rhythm that was the sound of her breathing as she dropped off to sleep.

Dorian observed her for a few moments before he let out a sigh and shook his head -- it was clear that Ellana would not be moving anytime soon, even if she was still awake. Honestly though, it was not as though Dorian really minded. He bent down so that he could remove his own footwear, leaving his boots placed neatly beside the bed, and then began to remove his jacket so that he would be more comfortable.

“You’re lucky, you know,” Dorian said, though he doubted that Ellana could hear him in her slumber. “That I have shared a bed with  _ worse _ people.”

As expected, Ellana said nothing, though she did roll over onto her side to get more comfortable. Dorian snorted in amusement and shook his head, laying down beside the elven woman so that he could go to sleep too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for how long it's been since I last updated! As I'm sure many people understand, life unfortunately sometimes gets in the way :(

When Ellana awoke the next day, it was with a pounding head and severe discomfort caused by sleeping in last night’s clothes. The skirts were tangled around her legs, and the bodice felt as though it had twisted halfway around her torso due to her fidgeting as she slept. Ellana’s feet were aching too from the ridiculous shoes, and she groaned as she pushed herself up into a sitting position, cradling her head for a moment before she slipped off the bed and instantly winced at the pressure on the balls of her feet, cursing quietly.

Stupid Dorian and the stupid wine.

If she had not been so nervous about seeing Vivienne -- and then relieved after they had spoken about being on good terms once again -- then she likely would not have drank so much. Well, there was also the fact that Ellana was not too fond of big parties either, so that was probably what had made her decide to drink so much as well.

A glance around the room revealed no trace of Dorian, other than the empty, slept in bed -- which Ellana was almost certain he had slept in too, but she was far from bothered by it. Growing up in a Dalish clan was not a particularly good way to grow up with any modesty or boundaries where personal space was concerned. Ellana hoped that the only reason as to why Dorian was absent was because he had his head in a chamberpot trying not to throw up.

Of course, Ellana’s hopes were dashed.

Upon stepping out of Dorian’s rooms, Ellana found herself in the lounge room, covering her eyes because of the bright sunlight that was streaming in through the balcony doors. She slowly made her way out to the balcony, and when Ellana finally felt able to withstand the pain of opening her eyes, she spotted Dorian sitting at the table, looking as fresh as a daisy as he sipped from a small porcelain cup -- possibly full of hot chocolate. With how she felt that morning, just the thought of the sweet drink was enough to make the bottom of Ellana’s stomach drop.

“Ah, the princess finally awakens.”

Ellana shot Dorian a dark glare as she sank into a chair, covering her eyes for a moment due to the pain in her head, which the sunlight was far from being kind to. “It’s not that late, you’re still eating breakfast.”

“It’s afternoon.” Dorian stated. “I’m having afternoon tea.”

Despite the fact that she was trying to avoiding looking at the sun, Ellana eyed the position of the shadows that were being caused by some of the objects on the table -- and regrettably, Dorian was right. It was afternoon, which meant that Ellana had managed to sleep most of the day away, and she did not really feel much better for it.

“Well…” Ellana said, and then paused as she tried to come up with some sort of retort. Tried and failed. The pounding headache caused by the wine and the fact that she had only just gotten out of bed meant that she was lacking in wit at that moment in time, so she decided to just let it go and closed her eyes.

“Not feeling well, are we?” Dorian asked, in a tone that seemed obnoxiously chipper.

“No.” Ellana grumbled, resting her head in her hands. “Why did you let me drink so much wine?”

Dorian took another sip from his cup before he set it down on the table. “I suggested to you that it might not be a good idea to have much more, and you gave me a ten minute lecture on how you were old enough to know what your limits were and didn’t need me constantly watching over you.”

Ellana tried to remember that incident occurring, but all that her poor brain could conjure up was a memory of her brandishing a wine glass at Dorian as though she was about to fight him with it. “Dorian, if I ever do that to you again, then please disregard everything that I’ve said and take the wine away from me.”

“Noted.” Dorian said and smirked at Ellana. “Not that you’ll be touching wine for a while, I assume?”

“You assume correctly.” Ellana responded, leaning down so that she could rest her head on the surface of the table. Even if it was afternoon, the sun was too bright and Ellana just wanted to crawl back into a dark room and wallow in self pity. “I’m hungry… but if I eat anything, I get the feeling that I’ll be seeing it again soon afterwards.”

Dorian grimaced at the elven woman as he set his cup down. “That sounds pleasant.”

“Don’t you have some kind of magical cure?” Ellana mumbled, covering her head with her hands. “I’ll even take blood magic.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I still don’t practice blood magic.” Dorian said, the amusement clear on his features. “Perhaps you can try the apothecary down the street -- if you feel up to walking, that is.”

Ellana made a rude sign at Dorian, but decided to remain silent in hopes of easing the pounding in her head. Aside from a cure for her head, the other thing that Ellana wanted most at that moment in time was help to get out of her dress from the night before, and also a nice bath where she could just wallow for a few hours until she started to feel as though she was ready to rejoin the world of the living.

***

The next day, Ellana was awake and out of bed before noon -- well, mostly before noon, though at least she was up earlier than the day before. Despite still feeling absolutely exhausted, Ellana was just relieved that she seemed to be mostly recovered from the day before -- there was no more headache, which the elven woman was incredibly grateful for, as she dressed in a pair of breeches and one of the shirts she had stolen from Dorian’s wardrobe.

As he had been the day before, Dorian was sat on the balcony again -- though this time it looked as though he was having lunch rather than afternoon tea. Another difference was that Dorian already had company, and Ellana smiled when she saw Cullen sat at the table with him, a chessboard between the two of them and several platters of food and drink surrounding them.

“I didn’t realise you were having company over for lunch,” Ellana said, sliding into a seat on the opposite side of the table. She noticed the jug of wine that was placed between Dorian and Cullen and wrinkled her nose, making a mental note to avoid that. “I would’ve at least  _ tried  _ to get up earlier if I had known.”

“Ellana, this chess match has been going on for a couple of hours,” Dorian said, smiling at the elven woman. “You would’ve been back to sleep in no time.”

“I could’ve helped,” Ellana protested, eyeing the chessboard. From what she could tell, Dorian had the black pieces, and there were far fewer of those on the board at that moment in time. “Looks like you could’ve used it.”

“He keeps going on about how this is his ‘strategy’,” Cullen said, one corner of his mouth turned upwards into a smile. “I still have yet to see any evidence of it, however.”

Ellana spent the rest of the afternoon sat with Dorian and Cullen, watching the two men play chess. Ellana herself was not a great player -- mostly due to the boredom. Watching Dorian and Cullen play was entertaining enough though, especially because every now and then one of them would stare at the board in complete and utter silence for several minutes before muttering an insult and making their next move.

As Cullen was about to declare checkmate and the game would finally be over, one of the servants appeared at the balcony doors, a large eagle perched on their arm, which they were holding away from their body in a very wary manner. The servant made their way over to Dorian, and whispered something to him before pointing to a scroll that was being clutched tightly in the bird’s talons.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Dorian said to Ellana and Cullen before he took the scroll from the eagle and rose from his chair, heading across the balcony.

Ellana watched as Dorian broke the seal on the scroll and started to read the document, a crease appearing between his brows as he frowned. Obviously it was something important, and Ellana found that she was soon also frowning, wondering what the subject of the scroll was. It was most likely related to his endeavours in his homeland, and Ellana hoped that everything was alright back in Tevinter.

The eagle let out a cry that distracted Ellana from her thoughts, and she turned around to see the servant flinch away from the large bird, seemingly trying to hold the raptor as far away from their body as possible. The servant looked utterly terrified of the bird, and Ellana knew that probably was making the eagle feel unsettled too.

“May I?” Ellana asked the servant, holding out her own arm.

The servant looked relieved at the prospect of handing over the bird to someone else, though hesitated slightly. “My lady, you don’t have a glove. I don’t want the talons to scratch you.”

“Here,” Cullen said, reaching out to the back of a chair where he had hung his outdoor garments whilst he lunched with Dorian. “Borrow one of mine.”

“Thank you,” Ellana said, smiling at Cullen and raising her arm. “Do you mind?”

For a moment, Cullen looked to be slightly puzzled, before his gaze flicked to the stump that remained of Ellana’s left arm and realisation crossed his features. “Of course not.”

It still frustrated Ellana, that there things that she had to ask for help with. What was even more frustrating was that every now and then she would forget that she no longer had her left hand to use, and would only remember as she was about to carry out some sort of impossible task -- such as putting gloves on.

As Cullen pulled the glove over her hand, Ellana realised how much bigger his hands were than hers. Despite the glove being too large though, at least it would offer her skin some protection from the eagle’s talons. Once Ellana was sure that the material would not slip, she offered her arm and smiled as the eagle spread it’s wings slightly to hop across the gap. As soon as the eagle had settled upon her arm, visible relief washed over the servant.

“Do you require anything else, my lady?” The servant asked, taking half a step backwards, as though they wanted to put as much space between themself and the bird, but not appear rude in doing so.

“No,” Ellana answered, turning her head to smile at the servant. “Thank you, you’re dismissed.”

The servant inclined their head respectfully to Ellana, before repeating the gesture to Cullen and heading towards the doors, most likely relieved that they no longer had to stand near the huge eagle.

“I’m fairly certain that bird is almost half the size of you.” Cullen said, folding his arms and leaning back against the table.

“Better hope that I’m not light enough for it to carry away,” Ellana said, smiling at Cullen before turning her attention back to the golden eagle perched on her arm. “My clan kept birds, to help us when we hunted. We never had anything like this though -- just some small hawks or falcons.”

Dorian muttered a Tevene curse under his breath as he reached for the pot of ink and a piece of parchment on the table. Ellana watched as he hastily scribbled a response to whatever communication it was that he had received, before he rolled up the scroll and seemed to seal it with a spell.

“Problem?” Ellana asked, raising her eyebrows.

“The whole of Tevinter seems to a bloody problem at the moment.” Dorian responded, attaching the scroll to the eagle’s leg. “Maevaris says that I’m needed in Minrathous.”

“Is it serious?”

“Not so much… yet.” Dorian said. “I need to return before things start to get out of hand.”

Ellana nodded. With Dorian set to return to Tevinter, she had to come up with a plan for herself rather quick. Ellana had hoped that he would remain in Val Royeaux a little longer -- more for his sake than his own, because she was not quite ready to leave the city, but was not keen on the idea of being left there practically alone.

Dorian said something in Tevene to the eagle -- some sort of command, Ellana reckoned, and the enormous bird stretched it’s wings before launching itself into the air. Ellana felt the whoosh of air and heard the wingbeats, and watched as the eagle quickly became little more than a speck in the sky, before finally disappearing into the horizon. Once it had gone, she turned back to Cullen, removing the glove that he had leant her. As Ellana held out her hand for help to remove the garment, she noticed a relatively large scar in the soft leather, one that must have been caused by the talons on the large bird.

“Oh, Cullen, I’m sorry.” Ellana said, turning her hand so that Cullen would be able to see the mark. “The talons must have scratched the leather.”

Cullen reached out to help pull the glove from Ellana’s hand, brushing the tip of his finger over the mark in the leather. “It’s no trouble.”

“But it was such beautiful craftsmanship,” Ellana said, feeling the glove slip from her fingers and watching as Cullen inspected the mark closer. “It’s ruined now.”

Cullen placed the glove down with the other half of the pair, hanging over the back of a chair as he smiled at Ellana. “It takes a lot more than a scar to ruin something beautiful.”

For a moment, Ellana was unsure of what to say, and just stood there staring at Cullen. The smiles she received from the former commander were often gentle, and this one was no different, even though he could have been angry at her. As an involuntary reaction, Ellana felt a warmth start to climb her cheeks, and after a moment of thought realised that the reaction was because some foolish part of herself had taken Cullen’s words and believed them to also be about  _ her. _

“Well, as long as you’re sure.” Ellana said, hoping that no-one else had noticed her small slip in composure, because that would just be horrendously embarrassing. “I do have some money. I can replace them for you, if you’d like.”

“Honestly, it’s okay.” Cullen said, returning Ellana’s smile. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. I do have a mabari, after all.”

***

Cullen had left later that evening, excusing himself after he had eaten supper with Dorian and Ellana. Whilst he had been there, Ellana had spent a majority of the time asking him questions about his latest venture, and telling him how she thought that it was a wonderful thing he was doing. As the leader of the Inquisition, Ellana had witnessed the former templar’s own personal struggle with lyrium addiction firsthand. It could not be an easy thing for him to witness in others, and when he spoke about the sanctuary he seemed to be grateful that Vivienne had lent him her support, and had also gotten several other nobles from across Thedas involved.

Once Cullen had left, Dorian had retreated to his rooms to pack his things, and Ellana had followed, able to see that there was something on her friend’s mind. Though Ellana might not have known a lot about Tevinter politics, she hoped that Dorian knew she was there to listen if he wanted to talk about it. The trouble in his homeland was obviously something serious and important, if he planned to leave as soon as he could the next day.

Ellana was sitting on the edge of Dorian’s bed, watching as he started to pack a surprising amount of items into what she would consider to be a relatively small case. Knowing Dorian, it was probably enchanted in some way. Magic did seem as though it was able to make a lot of things far easier. Ellana wished that she was about to enchant her packing, because she  _ hated _ packing. There never seemed to be enough space.

“Do you think we could write to each other while you’re in Tevinter?” Ellana asked, crossing her legs. After being so absent for so long, Ellana wanted to get back in contact with the people she had shut out.

“Of course,” Dorian said, sounding almost offended at the possibility that Ellana had thought that he would not want to. “If you’re lucky, I’ll even send you a reply via a giant magical eagle.”

Ellana grinned at him. One thing that she needed more of in her life was giant magical eagles. “This is why you’re my best friend.”

“Not my good looks, charm and wit, but my ability to summon giant birds of prey to you?”

“It’s a good skill to have.”

Dorian briefly returned his attention to his packing again, folding some garments and placing them in the case. Ellana was starting to wonder how much he had actually brought with him from Tevinter -- he looked as though he was packing far more than enough items of clothing for a few days.

“Will you be staying in Orlais after I leave?” Dorian asked, straightening up and turning to look at Ellana.

Ellana could sense that ’serious conversation time’ was approaching. The look on Dorian’s face said it all. Ellana appreciated his worry, and Dorian must have known that whilst Val Royeaux was a nice enough place, it was not Ellana’s preferred setting. She wanted the outdoors and wilderness, not cobblestones and market squares.

“No,” Ellana answered, because she was sure of that much. “I know Vivienne is here and it’s probably the closest I’ve been to a lot of people for a long time… but this isn’t what I want. I can admit that Val Royeaux is a nice place, and I’m sure there are plenty of great things to do -- but staying here? For months probably? No thank you.”

Dorian nodded in understanding, pausing for a moment before he did speak. “So, what are you planning on doing?”

“I don’t know.” Ellana answered. She had never really been one for thinking ahead, and none of that had changed in recent years. “I just know… that I don’t particularly want to be on my own again.”

“I’d say come to Tevinter, but I think we both know that wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Ellana laughed and gave a small shake of her head. Just imagining herself in Tevinter was a bad enough idea, so physically being there would be even worse. Dorian would probably have to break up a fist fight every few paces down the street. “No, it definitely wouldn’t.”

“What about going to Kirkwall?” Dorian suggested after a few moments of silence. “I know, I know, Kirkwall isn’t that great and it’s another city, but Varric is there and you know that he would be more than willing to have you around.”

Ellana wrinkled her nose at the suggestion. “I actually do have an idea, but I’m just… I’m not sure.”

Dorian rested his hands on his hips, and when nothing else was offered he raised his eyebrows at Ellana. “Well? Are you going to share?”

“I want… I sort of want to go with Cullen, to see this sanctuary that he’s set up for the templars.” Ellana answered, staring down at her lap. It seemed like a bit of a silly idea, when Ellana thought about it -- what could she  _ really _ do to help? She knew nothing about lyrium addiction, other than what she had witnessed Cullen going through in the past.

“But you’re not sure?” Dorian asked.

“I cut myself off from the world, and so many of my friends have gone on to do such wonderful things. I’ve done nothing since the Inquisition, Dorian, and I want to change that. I want to help people.” Ellana stated. The templars seemed to be a good place to start too, seeing as Ellana had requested their help closing the breach. Wasn’t it time that she returned the favour? “Is this really the right thing to do, though?”

“What makes you think that it might not be the right thing?” Dorian asked.

“I don’t know,” Ellana answered, picking at a piece of fluff that was on the bedcovers. “I’m worried that I’m just looking for something to do, and that my heart won’t be in it. I suppose I’m also worried that I might let him down, if I do suddenly change my mind.”

“Speak to Cullen about it,” Dorian suggested, smiling at Ellana. “He said he would probably come and see me off in the morning, so you could always tell him that you would like to help and see what he thinks.”

***

Dorian’s farewell was made up of a small group which consisted of Ellana, Cullen and Vivienne. How the enchanter had found out, Ellana was unsure, but she assumed that Dorian may have sent word to her before retiring for the evening. Despite dawn having only just broken, Vivienne looked nothing less than her usual perfection, whereas Ellana was certain that she looked a little worse for wear, with dark circles under her eyes and her hair unbrushed. Cullen was in a similar condition, looking rather rumpled as he covered a yawn with the back of his hand.

Dorian bid each of them goodbye in turn, leaving Ellana until last. It was as though the realisation had suddenly hit her that Dorian was going back to Tevinter -- and even though he had said that they could write to each other, Tevinter was going to be  _ very _ far away. Ellana clung to Dorian with her one arm, hoping that he was not going to notice how close to tears she was at that moment in time.

“Remember,” Dorian murmured in Ellana’s ear, giving her a squeeze. “I’m just a magical eagle flight away.”

Ellana gave a small laugh, which may have had a tiny sob in it. “I think I might be too heavy for one to carry all the way to Tevinter.”

“Nonsense, we just need a stronger enchantment.” Dorian said, pulling back so that he could smile at Ellana. “If you ever need anything, send word to me. I’ll take care of it, even if I am half a world away.”

“I know,” Ellana said, smiling at her friend. “Thank you, Dorian. It means a lot to me.”

Eventually the goodbyes had to end, and Dorian climbed into the carriage that he would ride in for most of the way back to Tevinter. The sun had appeared over the tops of some of the taller buildings by that point, and Vivienne excused herself, due to another engagement that she needed to attend that morning. Before Vivienne disappeared, Ellana promised that she would keep in touch with the enchanter, and said that it was likely goodbye for her as well for the time being.

Once Vivienne had gone, Cullen turned to Ellana with a tired smile on his lips. “I don’t know about you, but I could use some breakfast.”

They went for breakfast at a tavern down by the docks. It was still early enough that the only people around tended to be traders or fishermen -- those who had just returned from a morning catch, or those who were just preparing to head out. The tavern was loud, with many of the fishermen trading tips and advice on places to earn a good catch, or many of them were just catching others up on their recent exploits.

If given the choice, Ellana would probably have opted for somewhere quieter. She was still getting used to civilisation since returning from staying with her clan, and large, loud groups was something that she was trying to get used to again. Another reason why Ellana would have preferred somewhere quieter was to avoid any staring and being recognised. On a few occasions when she had been out with Dorian, people had recognised her, and her fame had then ended up attracting an unwanted crowd. Sitting in the tavern though, no-one really paid her and Cullen any attention, and Ellana was relieved that the patrons seemed to be more engrossed in their own business than what was going on around them.

“Do you think Dorian will be okay in Tevinter?” Ellana asked, looking up from her almost empty plate.

“Yes,” Cullen answered. “I’m sure he will.”

“It must be serious, if he left so quickly.” Ellana said. Talking about Dorian seemed to be a safe topic, seeing as Ellana was now starting to feel a little anxious about asking Cullen whether she would be of any help at his sanctuary.

“I’m sure that it’s nothing he can’t handle.” Cullen said, showing Ellana a smile. “Before he left, Dorian mentioned that there was something you wanted to talk to me about. Care to share?”

Ellana wondered if Dorian was worried about her chickening out of speaking to Cullen and remaining on her own after he had left, which was possibly why he had mentioned it to the other man.

“I just wanted to talk to you some more about your sanctuary,” Ellana responded, hoping that her tone sounded as casual as she wanted it to be. The last thing she wanted was to make Cullen feel uncomfortable by coming straight out and asking him if she could go with him. “And ask if there was anything that I could do to help.”

“You were the Inquisitor,” Cullen said, his lips twisting into a smile. “In some places in Thedas you still hold rather a lot of sway. I’m certain that there’s no shortage of things that you could do.”

Ellana wrinkled her nose. That sounded like some awful role that would require her needing to talk to people -- like an ambassador. Ellana was certainly not ambassador material. “I hope you don’t mean that you want me to exploit my old connections… because we both know that I’ll then have to get in touch with Josephine to write prompt cards for me. She rarely ever trusted me to use my own words, and that was often for good reason.”

The amusement was clear on Cullen’s features. “Perhaps it would be best then if we avoided situations where you might have to persuade others to help us. You might end up costing us more than you gain.”

“Exactly,” Ellana said, returning Cullen’s smile. “Besides, you have Vivienne to throw fancy parties and secure patrons -- and I’m sure that she’s much better at it than me.”

“True,” Cullen said, contemplatively, as though trying to think of something else that Ellana would be able to do.

Ellana shifted slightly on her chair, internally scolding herself to get on with it. The worst that Cullen could do was say no -- and really, that it would be far from the end of the world. Sure, Ellana would be embarrassed and upset, but she would just deal with it, and would then most likely consider spending a little time with Varric in Kirkwall. She still had options, even if they were ones that she was reluctant to take.

“Cullen,” Ellana started to say, setting her fork down. “Would you… would you consider letting me come to the sanctuary with you? I’d like to be there and show my support for the templars. I’d like to… be there for them, I suppose, and help in that way.”

Cullen seemed a little taken aback by Ellana’s words. After Kirkwall and the large numbers of the templar order who had allied with Corypheus, it was likely an uphill struggle to earn support most of the time, and here was once the most powerful person in Thedas, offering him her personal allegiance.

“I’m not sure what I would actually be able to do, but I at least want to see the sanctuary.” Ellana continued, feeling slightly self conscious now that she had Cullen’s full attention fixed on her. “I want people to know that, although it no longer exists, the Inquisition does not abandon those who provided support when we needed it most.”

“I... would be honoured if you would accompany me to the sanctuary.” Cullen answered. “It is not uncommon knowledge that the order is lacking of friends in most places nowadays -- the men and women I’ve taken in have nowhere else to go, and considering that gaining sympathy as a templar is hard enough, gaining sympathy whilst being an ex-templar facing a difficult battle with an addiction is even more daunting.”

Ellana knew how Cullen had felt when he was battling his own lyrium addiction. He had been ashamed and angry, and had only told her as he felt he had to. As the commander of the Inquisition’s force, Cullen had been given immense purpose and had a large amount of support from Ellana and Cassandra. Without any of that… well, Ellana could only imagine the kind of fate that would have befallen her friend.

“So… I can go with you?” Ellana asked, wanting to be sure.

Cullen’s smile was bright. “Yes, you can.”

Ellana found herself returning his smile, wondering if her’s was as bright. It was a rather pleasant surprise, seeing that Cullen was so happy that she would be accompanying him. “When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow,” Cullen answered. “So I assume that you need to spend the rest of the day picking up a few things for the journey?”

“You would be right, assuming that.” Ellana said, giving a small laugh. It was a shame that Dorian had needed to leave that morning, seeing as the elven woman knew how much he loved a spontaneous shopping trip. “I suppose a horse would be a good place to start.”

“Well, it might be a long walk otherwise.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana goes to the templar sanctuary with Cullen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Slow update again, I know, and this chapter is a bit short and more of a filler than anything, but that's to help set the scene for the story going forward! :3

The templar sanctuary was settled on a small area of land next to the shores of Lake Celestine, which had been granted to Cullen by Cassandra when she had been officially instated as the next Divine. Due to witnessing Cullen’s own struggles, Cassandra had been determined to help in any way that she could, seeing as in the past it seemed that the chantry tossed those men and women aside once they could no longer serve.

Ellana fell in love with the grounds the moment she and Cullen set foot within them. There were large, open meadows which slowly become a rich, green forest which surrounded the southern edge of the estate. To the north, Lake Celestine was visible at the bottom of the hill, and the sparkling, blue water seemed to extend for miles. Places like this were where Ellana thrived, not stuck in some city with too much noise and too many people.

Nestled in the far corner of the estate was a shabby looking Orlesian structure which had been the summer house of a minor noble family. It had been abandoned years ago when the family had fallen into debt, and claimed by the Orlesian state until Cassandra had obtained the land rights for Cullen. Although repair work still needed to be carried out on some areas of the house, it was habitable, and had been converted into something of a hospice for those who were suffering the most with the lyrium addiction, or any other serious conditions such as a physical or mental disability that was a result of serving as a templar.

Those residents who were well enough not to reside in the main building had taken over outbuildings that were no longer in use and had converted them into something resembling dormitories. It was familiar to them, Cullen had explained, and some of them liked that familiarity. If any of the former templars wished to have more privacy though, a small number of cabins had been constructed near to the stables.

“This is the old groundskeeper’s house,” Cullen said, pulling a key from a pouch on his belt and sliding it into the door. “You’re welcome to stay here, if you like. With me.”

Ellana nodded in response and smiled at Cullen. “Thank you.”

“I’ll have another key made, so that you may come and go as you wish.”

“Thank you.” Ellana repeated. It was all that she really trusted herself to say, not wanting to acknowledge the bloom of warmth she felt at the prospect of having a key. As much as Ellana enjoyed living and travelling with her clan, during her time as Inquisitor she had become used to having a permanent home to return to when she was weary.

Cullen smiled at Ellana in response before he pushed the door open and gestured for her to step inside first. Ellana gave Cullen another quick smile as she squeezed past him and entered the house, instantly tripping over a bucket that was inside of the doorway to catch drips from a leak in the roof.

“Needs a bit of work, doesn’t it?” Ellana asked, as she scowled at the bucket and rubbed her toe through her boot, as though that would help in some way.

“Just a bit,” Cullen answered, a smile touching his lips as Ellana righted herself and he closed the door behind them. “I never seem to be able to find the time to get round to it.”

“Well, we’re going to have to change that.” Ellana said, reaching up with her hand to undo the clasp on her cloak. “I won’t be able to actually do it myself, but I suppose I could at least  _ try  _ and steady the ladder for you.”

“I’m not sure that I trust you doing that.” Cullen commented, reaching out to take Ellana’s cloak from her, to hang up on one of the hooks that was next to the door -- and hopefully not close enough to be under the leak. “You seem more like the type to deliberately wobble the ladder as I reach the top.” 

Ellana saw no point in trying to deny it, as she was certain that many a time at Skyhold she had deliberately knocked a ladder whilst walking past Solas as he painted, and then he would look down and give her an annoyed smile that radiated some sort of fondness for her and -- 

Ellana promptly shut down that thought. That was in the past. A long way back in the past now, and something that she did not plan to dwell on in the present or the future. Her non-existent arm seemed to tingle briefly, and Ellana rubbed her fingers over the stump, hoping that it would ease whatever that feeling was.

Cullen seemed to regard her carefully for moment, as though he was assessing the situation, before he spoke again. “Feel free to freshen up and have a rest. I have some business to attend to in the main house.”

“Thank you.” Ellana said, again. Did she always say it so much? It was starting to irritate her a little bit.

Cullen gave her a small smile as he reached for the door handle. “I’ll see you for supper.”

***

Ellana closed the door behind her and let out a quiet sigh. She had done like Cullen suggested, and had washed her face and neck to rid herself of the grimy feeling that came from travelling long distance, and had then took the opportunity to rest. Ellana had napped for a little while, but had found her sleep light and frequently disturbed. It was afternoon now, and instead of waiting around for Cullen in the house, she decided to take a walk around the grounds.

From what Ellana had seen so far, the sanctuary seemed to be mostly self-sufficient. When she and Cullen had arrived that morning, they had passed a small party going out to do some hunting and check snares that they had already laid. Walking around the estate now, Ellana had come across a relatively large plot of land where there were a few men and women who looked to be tending crops.

Ellana had never really partaken in any farming before. Her clan moved around too frequently to grow any crops of their own, and just tended to live from the land that they were inhabiting at that moment in time. They would occasionally trade with farmers, but a lot of the time the trading was met with suspicion and sometimes violence, so it tended to only be as a last resort, such as in winter when food was scarce.

At the far end of the plot, a corner had been cordoned off with some thin rope. There was a young woman there who looked as though she was tending to a selection of colourful flowers, not crops that were for eating. Ellana was intrigued by the flowers. She knew that some people tended to gardens -- she had seen magnificent gardens in Orlais -- but Ellana had never seen any that looked so small and unordered, as though someone literally might just be growing flowers because they enjoyed it.

Ellana continued exploring the grounds until her stomach started to grumble at her, at which point she headed back to Cullen’s house for supper. Cullen had already returned from the main house, and was setting the small table that was pushed to one side of the room. In the centre of the table there was a medium sized pot of stew -- which smelt delicious -- and two bowls stacked next to it.

Cullen looked up at Ellana standing in the doorway and smiled at her. “I figured you might not want to eat up at the main house, so I asked the cook for some food to bring over.”

“Thank you.” Ellana said, returning Cullen’s smile. “It smells nice.”

“Some sort of druffalo stew, I think.”

“Sounds nice too.”

“Have a seat,” Cullen said, pulling a chair out for Ellana. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

Ellana sat down at the table and smiled at Cullen as he walked over to one of the cupboards and took out two cups, followed by a lidded jug of some sort. When Cullen returned to the table, he set one of the cups down in front of Ellana, and then the other in his place. He removed the lid from the jug and filled Ellana’s cup about half of the way up, before doing the same with his.

Ellana moved her bowl closer to the pot of stew before she picked up the ladle, starting to fill her bowl. This was another one of those little things that she found… difficult, since losing her arm -- not because it was a difficult task or anything like that, it was the adjustment. Before losing her hand, Ellana would have been able to lift the bowl closer to the pot and hold it whilst she helped herself to food. Now though, she had to move the bowl as close as possible to the pot and was unable to steady either as she ladled some of the stew into her bowl.

“Did you enjoy your walk this afternoon?” Cullen asked, sliding onto his own chair opposite.

Ellana nodded, pulling her bowl back towards herself. “The grounds are very pleasant here. I’d love a chance to explore further.”

“Tomorrow, perhaps.” Cullen responded, smiling at Ellana. “I have some free time after lunch. I could accompany you, and give you a more detailed tour than I was able to today.”

“I would appreciate that.” Ellana said. “I didn’t manage to get to the boundary as of yet.”

“We can do that.” Cullen agreed, nodding. “I’ll show you the kennels as well.”

Ellana’s smile broadened as she picked up a fork, hesitating slightly over the knife. It was another old habit that was taking a long time to die, and when Ellana glanced up she noticed the red starting to spread across Cullen’s face, and lifted her hand to cut him off before he could open his mouth.

“It’s nothing to worry about, Cullen. I know that you’re going to apologise, and you don’t have to.” Ellana assured him. “Even I still forget from time to time.”

“My apologies,” Cullen said, despite Ellana’s words. His gaze flicked to Ellana’s stump, and then back up to her face, the tinge of embarrassment still visible on his face. “I didn’t think.”

“Neither did I.” Ellana responded, pushing the stew around her bowl with her fork. “And I still don’t sometimes. It’s… it’s been difficult to adjust to.”

“I can only imagine.”

Ellana often avoided this subject whenever it came up in conversation. She could take the pitying looks from others -- from her clan, or from strangers who stared at her on the street. From Cullen though, it seemed… it made her stomach twist in knots. Ellana did not want Cullen to look at her like that, like he felt sorry for her and that she had suddenly become helpless -- especially not when he had endured so much himself. Ellana cast her eyes down to her bowl of stew, unsure of what else to say.

Cullen seemed to pick up that Ellana was perhaps uncomfortable at that moment in time, going by the way his voice softened as he said, “If I do something that is… distasteful or inconsiderate, I would like you to tell me.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do anything distasteful or inconsiderate in the entire time that I’ve known you.” Ellana glanced up from her bowl of stew, showing Cullen another one of her small smiles. “But honestly, Cullen, don’t worry about it. I’d rather you did such things because it means that you’re still thinking about me, and not just the fact that I lost my hand.”

The corner of Cullen’s mouth quirked up into a teasing smile. “Well then, does that mean I can tell you to do the dishes?”

“No.” Ellana stated, trying to keep her features as neutral as possible. She tore off a piece of bread a dipped it into her stew, just so she could avoid making eye contact with Cullen and bursting into laughter. “Because that  _ is  _ inconsiderate and disrespectful.”

Cullen huffed a small laugh at Ellana’s response. “I guess I’ll take them back to the kitchens in the morning then.”

“When you fetch breakfast would be nice.”

“Maker’s breath, I’m going to end up regretting this, aren’t I?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana likes living in the refuge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooo I know it's been aaaages since I last updated, and I finally managed to get another chapter out! I think it's shorter than usual and a bit of a filler, but I'm working on developing Ellana's relationships with Cullen and some of the other occupants of the templar sanctuary.
> 
> Anyway, I hope anyone who reads this enjoys, and hopefully I'm getting my mojo back and won't leave it waiting so long before my next update!

As the weeks passed and turned into months, Ellana found that it was easier than she thought to settle in at the templar refuge. In fact, she was actually enjoying being surrounded by people again. Sure, she had been around people when she had been back with her clan, but that had been different. Her clan had been her family, and they had been… well, what everyone expected from Dalish elves. Somewhat aloof, suspicious, and not very understanding of any problems that were not their own.

These men and women had similar experiences to her own. Many of them had been affected by their time spent serving the order, and some of them were templars she recognised in passing from Therinfal Redoubt. The men and women there had a variety of problems; some of them in need help and support to battle and defeat their lyrium addiction, others just because their minds were broken from the horrors that they had witnessed. There were a few with physical disabilities too, whom Ellana admired as they would still carry out tasks that other, more able bodied people could do -- she had even seen one of them in the sparring ring, and she had felt a phantom twitch in her missing hand, the urge to pick up a weapon and join them rising strongly.

Despite the desire to jump in a sparring ring again, Ellana still did not feel as though she was ready to do so. More recently though, Ellana had been testing the waters with what she was able to handle. She missed her bow, but unfortunately knew that she would never be able to wield it again so would have to make do with something else.

“Lightweight, fast, and can hold three bolts at a time.” Lisette announced, holding a compact crossbow out to Ellana. “Should do the trick for hunting or killing a man, whatever takes your fancy.”

Lisette was an ex-templar who Ellana had become close to during the time she spent at the sanctuary. Lisette had served as a templar in Kirkwall, under Cullen’s command. In the mage uprising, she had been captured and tortured by rebel mages, and once free she had been reduced to begging on the streets for lyrium in her home country of Orlais -- willing do anything for a quick fix. Cullen had come across her one day in Val Royeaux, and had instantly offered her a place at the refuge, despite at that time having no land and no certainty that there even would be a refuge.

“This is able to kill a man?” Ellana asked somewhat skeptically, raising her eyebrows as she took the weapon from Lisette and rotated her hand to inspect it -- and admire the detail. Lisette had gone to the trouble of carving some sort of pattern into the wood. Although the pattern did not seem to be very clear, Ellana was certain that some of it matched her vallaslin.

“Look, it’s small and powerful, just like you.” Lisette responded with a smirk. Although Ellana had never thought of herself as being particularly small, compared to Lisette she was. Whilst Ellana was, well small apparently, and slender, Lisette was a fair bit taller than her and a little broader in the shoulders. “Come on, Ellana. My brother was a weaponsmith, I know how to make a half-decent crossbow.”

“Does this mean we need to find a man to try it out on?” Ellana asked.

“That, or an unsuspecting woodland creature we can have for dinner,” Lisette answered, folding her arms and leaning back against the wall. “It’s up to you, but if we go around shooting unsuspecting men I get the feeling that Cullen might have something to say.”

“Not if we shoot him first.” Ellana joked, admiring the craftsmanship of the crossbow. Lisette did fine work, something that made Ellana wish she was still able to use a proper bow, so that she could commission one from the other woman. “Where even is Cullen today? He was gone when I woke up this morning and I haven’t seen him around at all.”

“I think he went out with his dog this morning,” Lisette responded. “Probably went down to the lake. I think he goes there a lot.”

“You want to come with me?” Ellana asked, hanging the strap from the crossbow over her shoulder. “Watch me fail at firing a crossbow one handed?”

“As amusing as that sounds, I have other things I need to do today.” Lisette answered with a sigh. “Mind you though, I would much rather watch you being a terrible shot. I do need a good laugh.”

“Suit yourself,” Ellana said, smiling at Lisette. “I’ll see you at supper.”

***

The woods were peaceful and quiet. Ellana had failed to hit anything with the crossbow, which was why she had decided just to practise for a while -- when she could actually hit the objects she was aiming for, then she would start trying to hunt again. It was frustrating for Ellana, considering how good with a bow she had been before losing her arm. It was like being a child all over again, having to work hard and perfect her technique.

The trees were thinning out as Ellana carefully made her way down the slope, heading down to the lakeshore. Through the few trees that were still there, clinging to the rough ground, Ellana was able to make out of a small ruin sat in the middle of the water, and for a moment she craved to swim out to it and explore. Unfortunately though, swimming was something that she would be unable to do at that moment -- if ever again.

It was a warm day, the first real one that there had been for a while. The weather seemed to be unpredictable sometimes, not quite sure which season it wanted to settle into. Even if she was unable to swim, Ellana was tempted to kick off her boots and wade into the shallows for an opportunity to cool down.

As she emerged from the trees, Ellana caught sight of Cullen standing in the water… stripped down to nothing at all. He was wading through the water, heading towards the shore when he caught sight of Ellana standing at the edge of the lake, his face instantly turning scarlet as he covered himself and took a step backwards, into the deeper water once again.

Ellana’s eyes widened as she stared at Cullen. She probably should have looked away, but she was unable to bring herself to do it for some reason. “You’re naked.”

“Yes, I know.” Cullen answered, taking another step backwards into the lake, so that the water was deeper.

“You’re naked.” Ellana repeated, as though saying it aloud would allow her mind to process it.

“You just said that.”

“I just…” Ellana shook her head, remembering that the decent thing to do would be to look away. Actually looking away though, that was something that she had not done yet. “You’re naked.”

Cullen raised his eyebrows. “Are you… just going to keep saying that?”

After another moment or two, Ellana finally managed to drag her gaze away, and turned around so that her back was now to Cullen, offering him his privacy. “I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t expect to find you so… so…”

“Naked?” Cullen offered.

A loud laugh escaped Ellana’s lips before she covered her mouth, trying to stop anymore from escaping. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t hold it in.”

“I didn’t think nudity bothered you,” Cullen said, the sound of sloshing water implying that he was wading out of the lake water, and probably making his way over to his pile of discarded clothing. “Considering you said before that you and the other members of your clan were always naked around each other.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” Ellana responded. It was hard to be bothered by something so trivial when living in the woods with a large number of other people, especially when bathtime was usually combined with clothes washing in the nearest river. “It’s just… you’re always so  _ dressed _ .”

There was a rustling sound that implied Cullen was dressing himself again. “Believe it or not, but I  _ do _ actually take off my armour sometimes.”

“Oh, I definitely believe it now.” Ellana said, trying to conceal a snigger again. She had no idea why she was so amused by the situation -- and she was relieved that although embarrassed at first, Cullen did not seem as though he had taken offence to the situation… well, he still might be offended, but Ellana would just have to spend the rest of the day making it up to him.

“Well, you do have proof now.” Cullen said, stepping in front of Ellana, clad in his breeches and shirt. There was amusement on his features, and his wet hair was pushed back away from his face, likely so that his fringe stopped dripping in his eyes. “Which I hope that you’re not going to flaunt to everyone.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” Ellana said, giving Cullen a small smile. In all the time that she had known the ex-templar, she had never seen him look so relaxed and at peace. Cullen always seemed as though he was carrying some sort of strain on his shoulders, and Ellana was pleased to see him looking as though he had shedded some of the weight he always carried with him. “I apologise if I embarrassed you. I just… didn’t expect to find you like this. If I intruded on your privacy, then I truly am sorry.”

“It’s not like this a private area,” Cullen said, looking around. “Anyone could’ve done the same.”

“I wanted to come and find you, and Lisette told me that you were out walking your dog.” Ellana said, pausing for a moment. “Where even  _ is _ your dog?”

“He swam out to the ruins.” Cullen said, turning back to the lake and lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he peered across the water to the small ruin that was set in the middle of the lake. “Probably found something to poke around at.”

With impeccable timing, a flock of noisy waterfowl took off from the surface of the lake, followed by the sound of excited barking. Ellana smiled and turned her head to look at Cullen. “He’s definitely much happier with you than with his previous owner.”

“That’s because his previous owner had him as a fashion accessory, not as a dog.” Cullen responded, before he stuck two of his fingers in his mouth and whistled for the mabari.

Ellana watched as a dark shape plunged into the water and started heading towards the shore. “You ever take him out hunting?”

“Sometimes,” Cullen answered, watching as the black mabari climbed up onto the lakeshore and trotted over to where his master and Ellana were standing, tongue loling as he panted -- evidently pleased with himself for startling the local wildlife. “He’s not very good at it though -- are you, Pup?”

“Real creative.” Ellana teased, reaching down to stroke the hound behind the ears.

“It’s what he answers to.” Cullen said, taking a few steps away to retrieve his boots from where he had left them. “I couldn’t even pronounce the name that he did have.”

“Something pompous and Orlesian?” Ellana asked, Cullen confirming the answer to her question with a nod. She tutted and crouched down beside the mabari, scratching him under the chin and scrunching up her nose when he tried to lick her face. “Oh no, that wouldn’t do at all, would it? You like Pup much better, right?”

‘Pup’ answered her with a happy sounding bark and a jump that knocked Ellana flat on her back. With two hands, she might have been able to steady herself and keep her balance… but just the one meant that she toppled to the ground  _ hard _ , momentarily stunned before several tonnes of mabari decided that it was still playtime.

“Leave it.” Cullen ordered, grabbing the dog’s collar and dragging the animal away. “ _ Sit _ .”

Ellana summoned enough momentum to get herself back into a sitting position, accepting the hand that Cullen offered to help her back up onto her feet. She felt more amused than embarrassed, despite being knocked on her arse by a dog and needing help to stand up again afterwards. “Next time I’ll be ready for that.”

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and offered an apology in the form of, “He’s very excitable.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Ellana said, approaching the mabari and gave him a scratch behind the ears. “Just need to focus all of that excitement into something productive. How do you feel about being a hunting dog, Pup?” The mabari barked and Ellana grinned. “Yeah, I thought so. I’ll get you trained up in no time.”

Whilst Ellana waited for Cullen to finish dressing himself properly and gather his things, she started to play fetch with the mabari, throwing a stick into the shallow edge of the lake and watching as the large dog would bound down to the water to retrieve it. Ellana missed animals. With her clan she had helped Falura the halla keeper and was fond of the gentle creatures. She missed hunting and trekking through the woods with a hound, but mostly she missed keeping birds. Her favourite way to hunt had been with a falcon, though that was something she would likely never do again. With one hand she would be unable to handle the bird and her bow at once.

After a moment her attention was dragged away from the mabari and returned to Cullen, now ready to return to the sanctuary and giving her a quizzical look.

“Are you alright?”

It took a moment for Ellana to realise that her eyes were stinging, and she wiped at them with the back of her hand. “Of course. The sun’s just bright today.”

There was hint of awkwardness in the air, most likely because Cullen wanted to say something but was unsure how to. Ellana knew that Cullen cared about her, and that he was genuine in his concern, but it was still difficult for her to fully open up. Cullen had his own struggles to deal with, and Ellana would not want to make things awkward for her by adding her own problems to his.

Cullen nodded, though it was obvious from his expression that he thought Ellana’s excuse was ridiculous. Whether he was going to press the issue or not Ellana was unsure, but he then picked up his sword and fastened his sword belt. “Should we slowly head back?”

“Sure,” Ellana answered, nodding in response. “Must be time for supper soon.”

“... It’s literally just been lunchtime, hasn’t it?”

“Fine, then I’m going to raid the kitchen to see if anyone’s made any small cakes like the other week. I need  _ something _ to keep me going.”

Cullen snorted in amusement. “The other week you said that, and then you ate so many of them that you didn’t even want supper that evening.”

“Excuse me, I wasn’t the only one that ate them.”

“Yes, but the difference was that I still ate  _ all _ of my supper.” Cullen said, a teasing smile on his lips, before he whistled a command to his mabari to follow.

“Yeah, and most of mine.”

“I’d use the excuse that I’m a growing boy, but somehow I don’t think that you’ll believe that.”

“Nope,” Ellana responded, popping the ‘P’ sound. “But I will be willing to overlook it if you give me some of your supper tonight if there are no little cakes available for stealing. I’m  _ starving _ .”


End file.
